


You Still Alive, Baby?

by SpaceWaffleHouseTM



Series: Movie AUs [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mr. & Mrs. Smith Fusion, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Bad Ass Rey, Devoted Reylo, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang - Freeform, Married Reylo, Movie AU, No Pregnancy, Sexy at a PG-13 level, They May Try To Kill Each Other, bed sharing, but they're in love, secret keeping, slight angst, they are soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-08-11 15:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20156203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceWaffleHouseTM/pseuds/SpaceWaffleHouseTM
Summary: Rey and Ben Solo are the picture perfect suburban couple. He works the stock market, and she's a high ranking lawyer at a prestigious law firm on paper, but unbeknownst to the other, both work as spies for rival agencies.When they discover they're each other's next target, "until death do us part," sounds a lot more threatening than it did at their wedding.* A Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU *





	1. Barcelona

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Erulisse17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erulisse17/gifts).

> Alright, so I'm really excited for this one. When I saw the prompt, I knew immediately that this was going to be the one I wanted to do. 
> 
> Erulisse17, I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it.

Summer days had a way of turning the world into reverse. In paradise, they brought people closer in spite of their desire to run as far as they could from the heat, and the summer nights did little to cool them off. The hottest season of the year somehow managed to do little to deter tourists from pouring into the city of Barcelona, which provided the perfect cover for someone who was decidedly  _ not  _ a tourist and desperately needed saving. 

Spy work was complex, innovative, and always changing. Protocol shifted left and right, and enemies could become friends and friends could become enemies in the same minute. Complete strangers could suddenly become one’s biggest ally and the reason they lived to see another day. 

Such was the case at a bar in an upscale hotel near downtown, where Ben Solo was taking a casual sip of a mojito as his nerves ran wild inside him. Outside, the sounds of explosions filled his ears—explosions from charges  _ he’d  _ set—followed shortly after by more--had he set those too? He couldn’t remember—and then the sounds of screaming. All this in the name of taking down one of the First Order’s enemies, and one that was relatively low on the threat ladder, too. 

His heart started to race as he realized he didn’t have much of a way out. Police sirens were already beginning to sound, and the people running from the blasts were blocking the exits to render him thoroughly trapped. Getting out wasn’t really an option, but he might not have needed to. As long as no one had spotted what he looked like, the spy was going to be just fine. 

Feeling his nerves calm a bit, he took another sip of his drink, and watched as a bunch of confused tourists poured into the hotel, followed shortly after by police. The sight of them filled him with dread, like he was about to be arrested if they just  _ looked _ at him. He needed to calm down, but his chances at an exit were rapidly dwindling, and they seemed to keep getting lower the more men in blue walked in. 

Glancing at the bartender, Ben gave him a well-practiced grin. “You’d think the man they’re searching for is here.”

The man behind the bar laughed. “They think he is,” he said, then he picked up a glass left behind by another tourist, and began to scrub it clean with a towel. “Overheard them talking a second ago. Said they’re looking for tourists traveling alone.”

_ Shit,  _ that description matched Ben to a tee. He was traveling alone, and masquerading as a tourist. Slight panic set in as he watched more officers walk in, followed shortly after by someone that seemed to make time stand still for a moment. 

The woman who followed them looked just as confused as he felt. She wore a similarly panicked expression that she was trying to conceal with a friendly smile at passersby with her flowy, white dress, and she, like him, stood out solely because she was a tourist traveling alone. At first he thought that assumption was perhaps inaccurate, but then he saw the lack of a wedding ring on her finger and she didn’t seem to be searching the room for any friends she might’ve traveled with, and he knew she was exactly like him. 

They were both screwed if they didn’t get out of there quickly, or they would’ve been if time hadn’t run out for the woman he was staring at. 

As he watched, two police officers approached her, and he couldn’t hear much of what they were saying, but the words, “traveling alone,” were definitely uttered. 

His heart was racing in his chest fast enough for him to feel it. Already she looked trapped by the police, and though she was still smiling, still talking as if nothing was wrong, he felt guilt swarm within him. He couldn’t let her go down for something he’d done, even if he had technically been trained to let the local law enforcement blame it on anyone but him. Something in his gut said that letting her be captured by the authorities would be a grave mistake. 

With a nervous breath, Ben stood straight, and downed the last of his mojito before setting it down, and running a hand through his hair as he walked up to the woman. “Hey!” he shouted to the police, then he felt relief as their heads turned in his direction, and he caught the woman’s eyes with his. For a few seconds, his world became pure hazel, an array of greens and golds that captured him completely as he walked forward, and hoped that his intent was conveyed with a stare. 

Understanding seemed to fill her eyes, and she gave him a nod so subtle, he wasn’t unsure he’d imagined it. She was on the same page he was. Whatever he was about to do, she was going to play along. This was going to be  _ easy.  _

“ _ Est bien, _ ” he told the police on his approach, then he slipped his hand into hers, restraining the shiver that threatened his spine as he held her hand for the first time. It was warm, and soft, and her fingers laced perfectly with his as if it was what they were made to do, and there was a look in her eyes as she squeezed his hand that had him wondering if she’d felt it, too. “She’s with me.”

The police looked skeptical, staring between the unsuspecting pair with confusion in their eyes. “With you?”

“Yes,” the woman replied, revealing a deep, British accented voice to his ears. “Babe, I’ve been looking for you everywhere, where’ve you been?”

Ben laughed, and ran his thumb over her hand—perhaps an unnecessary gesture, it wasn’t as if the police were staring intently at their hands—as he came up with his response, then he decided to answer honestly. “I was just at the bar having a drink.”

“Mmm, well, you could’ve come to my rescue sooner.” She laughed as she placed a hand on his chest, and leaned into him, laying on the happy couple act for the officers as if she were a professional. Who was this woman? Some sort of actress? Whatever she was, she was damn good at pretending. “We wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, then he leaned down to whisper but not whisper into her ear. “Maybe I can make it up to you upstairs.”

The officers shifted uncomfortably as they watched the exchange, then one of them gestured for them to move aside, and Ben gave them a quick thank you before leading the woman toward the hall containing his room. She gave him a relieved sigh as she leaned against him, continuing the facade even though they were now out of sight from the police. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a room here?”

“I do actually.” He turned them onto the hallway, and kept walking by her side until he reached his room. “This one.”

“Okay,” she whispered, sounding slightly out of breath as she glanced over her shoulder as if to make sure they weren’t being followed. 

“I’m Ben,” he told her as he fished the key to his room out of his pocket, and tapped it against the little sensor above the door knob. A green light flashed at them, and he grinned as he gripped the knob, and pushed it open. 

She waited until the door was closed, then she let go of his hand, and offered her other one to him. “I’m Rey.”

“Nice to meet you, Rey,” he said, finding it odd how much he loved hearing that name from his tongue. 

“Nice to meet you, too.” She gave him a warm smile, then she leaned back against the door, fanning herself in an attempt to dry the dewy sheen on her skin.  _ Christ,  _ he’d forgotten how hot it was outside, and with the near miss they’d both just had, of course she was sweating. Hell, if he thought about it, he certainly felt a little damp at the back of his neck and his forehead. 

Just another summer day in Barcelona, really. 

“So what the hell were you doing out there by yourself?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he walked away from the door, and into the rather spacious hotel room, observing the curtains that hung from the walls, concealing them from the view of the street. “You almost got arrested just standing around.”

A scoff. “So did you.” He heard the sound of stilettos on a hard-wood floor, then he turned around to see her walking toward him with a smile on her face. “What were  _ you _ doing out there by yourself?”

Ben laughed. “I’m traveling, I figured I might as well use up my vacation days while the weather’s nice, you know?”

“It’s hotter than sin, but okay.”

“What about you?” Ben stepped forward, feeling emboldened by her walking into his space. “What brings you here?”

“Business. I’m a lawyer. Old friend of mine summoned me out here to help him look over a minor charge.” She shrugged as she stepped forward again, forcing him to tilt his head down to look at her. “Figured I’d spend some time in the city while I was at it.”

She said it the same way he always gave people his alibis. Her voice was a touch too casual, as if she thought that somehow by sounding more blasé, he wouldn’t notice that it was just a cover. 

Whatever she was doing, though, he figured it was none of his business. He was a complete stranger to her, after all, and for all she knew, he was lying as well. Technically he was, but she didn’t need to know that. 

“Well, Rey the lawyer, we might be stuck here for a while,” he said, then he crossed the room to a small, wooden cabinet, and opened it whilst holding her gaze. “Care to join me for a drink?”

A sly grin blossomed on her face. “Depends on how good of a bartender you are.” She sat down on a nearby white armchair, gripping the gold-trimmed edges of it in her fingers as she shrugged. “But honestly it’s so hot out, I’d take a drink made by a Taco Bell worker.”

He chuckled as he grabbed a bottle of tequila from the cabinet. “I think that may be an insult to Taco Bell employees.” Setting down the bottle, he then reached back inside the cabinet for two glasses. “But you’re in luck, I used to bar tend in college.” Not a lie, either. He was the best bartender at New York University back in the 2000s. 

Rey hummed her satisfaction, then sighed contentedly as a breeze blew in through the curtains, and blew her hair back from her face. His fingers were trembling involuntarily as he unscrewed the cap of the liquor, then he nearly spilled it as she tilted her head back, allowing him to glimpse the tempting skin of her neck as she leaned into the chair. 

_ Focus,  _ Ben told himself, then he focused his vision on pouring the tequila into the glasses. Slowly, his hands began to steady, and he let out a shaky breath as he finished, then reached into the cabinet to grab grape juice. He had no clue whether his company liked to drink her liquor straight, after all, and he was a touch too nervous to ask her. 

Once he finished making their drinks, he brought hers across the room, and handed it to her with a wink that she was— _ thankfully— _ receptive to. “Careful, Ben, if you keep going like that, I’ll start to think you’re flirting with me.”

A blush crept up his cheeks as he walked over to the wall on the opposite side of the room, and leaned against the windowsill. “Maybe… maybe I’m okay with that.”

“I might be, too,” she admitted, her voice softening as she stood up from the armchair. Rey’s eyes held his as she walked toward him, sipping her drink casually while thoughts danced behind those hazel irises. “But we should get to know each other first, shouldn’t we?”

“Perhaps.”

“What are you doing tonight?” 

All Ben gave her in response was a grin. 

Hours later after the sun had set, he and Rey were sharing drinks on the water’s edge while a band played music in the background. String lights created a strangely romantic atmosphere, making the heat that lingered in the air feel more intense than it was as they clinked their glasses together. The liquid of their cocktails sloshed as they smiled at one another, and he realized that since he’d met her, he’d hardly been able to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching up. 

Especially after the time they’d spent bonding, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to leave her behind in Barcelona. “To dodging bullets.” He laughed as he spoke, then he shook his head. “Sorry, I know it’s traditional to declare a toast before you clink glasses.”

“Don’t be,” she told him, then she raised her glass to her lips. “To dodging bullets.”

There was a feeling in the air as they sipped their drinks, and Ben found himself unable to take his eyes off of her as they drank in silence. Lucky for him, she had the exact same problem, and the two exchanged a heated stare as time passed. He wasn’t even sure what to say. What words could he possibly speak to her when the tension between them could be cut with a knife? 

“So, we’ve spent all this time getting to know one another, but there’s still something I don’t know about you.” Rey straightened up, leaning over the table to take one of his hands in hers. 

Heart racing in his chest, Ben’s eyes went wide as he looked down at their joined hands. He quickly calmed himself before speaking, softening his expression as he cleared his throat. “And what’s that?”

“Can you dance?” she asked, then she stood up from the table, and stepped in front of him as her fingers came up to brush his chin, sending more shivers down his spine. “Specifically, can you dance with  _ me _ ?”

Ben didn’t say a word, he just set down his drink, and stood up with her. The look in her eyes could’ve lit up the room as she guided him out onto the dance floor, weaving them through the other couples who were already dancing. 

Blood pumping in his veins, he waited until they’d found a suitable spot on the dance floor, then he tugged on her hand, and spun her back into his arms. She gasped from shock as he wrapped an arm around her waist, and began to sway gently. Picking up on his rhythm, she followed suit, resting a hand on his shoulder as they began a dance in close quarters. 

The rest of the world didn’t exist at such a short distance. It had faded away into background noise. All that existed was him, Rey, the heat, and the beat of the drums. 

“So he can dance,” she whispered lowly, then she shrieked delightedly as he spun her around again. “And show off.”

“Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this.”

“Shut up and dance ,” she replied, then their night whirled to life as they pressed even closer to one another, the lights blurring above their heads as Ben let Rey guide him across the dance floor. 

The atmosphere shifted as they danced, both of them drifting ever so closer to one another through the slow passage of time. He swore he could feel the air pressure drop, and the temperature around him cooled as if a thunderstorm was approaching, but if he looked up into the sky, he knew he’d find only the stars. 

Gravity, though, seemed to have other ideas. The music slowed, the tempo forcing them into a softer dance that allowed them to simply sway in one place on the dance floor. Without the fast tempo to distract them, they became drawn to one another, drifting closer until he couldn’t see anything but her eyes. Perhaps if he looked down, he’d capture her lips in his gaze, but he couldn’t move, he was completely, utterly captivated by the colors dancing in her irises. “Rey…”

He watched her swallow nervously, then she leaned forward, rising to the balls of her feet to press her forehead against his. “I think we both know there aren’t words for what’s happening.”

“No,” he agreed, lacing his fingers with hers as the lights swirled above them. “No, there aren’t.”

She laughed, then she leaned forward so that she was almost kissing him, her breath ghosting over his lips as she spoke, “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“ _ Kiss me _ .”

His breath left him in a shudder, starving his lungs of oxygen as he closed the gap between them, and kissed her. Rey’s lips were soft against his, fitting against him so perfectly, it almost felt like they’d been made for this. Though his lungs were begging him to take another breath, Ben deepened the kiss, using the arm around her waist to pull her tight against him as the music swelled around them. 

It felt like something out of a movie, or maybe that feeling people wrote about in songs, and though it was just a kiss, Ben could already see an entire future spiraling out in front of him. He hadn’t ever thought love at first sight could be real, but with the way she was kissing him, he started to find himself a believer. 

He broke the kiss ever so briefly to take in a quick gulp of air, then he went back in for more, living for the adrenaline rush through his veins that he got just by the way her lips moved against his. Judging by the contented hum she gave as her arms wrapped around his neck, she was feeling the exact same way. The same rush that was moving through him was running rampant in her, and he knew then and there he couldn’t just split with her in Barcelona. He couldn’t know Rey just for one night, he needed a lot more time with her than just a few hours. 

Much to his surprise, she broke the kiss first, pulling away slowly enough that he was able to follow her initial retreat. 

Laughter escaped her lips as she pressed a finger against his, then she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “How far away is your hotel, again?”

All he did was smirk in response before offering her his hand, then guiding her away from the riverside, and back to the place they’d first met. 

*

Rey woke up the next morning completely wrapped up in a white bed sheet. The slight twinges of a hangover were throbbing against her skull, but they were overwhelmed by a pure sense of bliss that made her smile even though she hadn’t opened her eyes yet. 

The memories she had of the night before made her certain that she couldn’t leave Barcelona alone. She had to find out where Ben was from, had to keep him in her life somehow. Her job made having a personal life extremely difficult, but wouldn’t having a partner make maintaining a cover easier? The Resistance’s director had told her to do whatever was necessary to maintain the illusion of a normal life, after all. 

All she had to do was keep the part of her life that involved explosions and gunshots a secret, and Ben wouldn’t suspect a damn thing. 

With a sigh, she turned over in the bed, and reached out for the other body she knew would be waiting for her there, but found nothing in the space where she’d sworn he’d fallen asleep beside her. Eyes snapping open, Rey sat up bolt-right in bed, clutching the fabric of the t-shirt she’d fallen asleep in—one she remembered borrowing from him, since all her pajamas were in her suitcase across town—and the bed sheet in her hand as her eyes searched the room for him. 

When she found nothing, sadness and panic began to slowly creep in. She’d thought that the night before had just been the beginning of whatever relationship lay between her and Ben. The way he’d looked at her, the way they’d talked; that hadn’t all been just an illusion, had it? There was no way he could hold her like he had and just abandon her the next morning. 

Unless everything she knew about him was a lie. 

Just before her imagination could start to run wild, the door to the hotel room opened ever so quietly. Fear replaced the sorrow she was feeling, and before she could even think, she was moving to find the knife she always kept strapped to her thigh, ready to take out whatever threat was encroaching on her space before it could begin to touch her. 

Rey rolled out of the bed, grabbing the knife out from under the fabric of the dress she’d left pooled on the floor the night before. Without making a sound—even to breathe—she began creeping along the wall as the door to the hotel room slowly opened, and she held the knife low at her side as she moved closer and closer to the intruder, poised and ready to strike at any—

“You awake?” she heard Ben’s voice ask as he walked further into the room, then relief flooded her veins, and she hurriedly hid the knife in a nearby dresser drawer before he could enter the room fully. 

She watched as he walked in, his arms full of a tray of food that smelled sickeningly sweet. Her heart soared in her chest as she realized that he hadn’t abandoned her; he’d just gone out to get them breakfast. With a grin, she stepped up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

Ben flinched from the initial shock, then he melted into her touch, tilting his head down to press a light kiss to her wrist as he laughed. “Good morning, Rey.”

“Good morning,” she sing-songed, then she let go of him, allowing the man she was quickly falling for to move forward, and set the breakfast tray down on the table. “Why’d you leave?”

“Room service wasn’t available, and I wanted to surprise you,” he explained, then he gestured to the tray he’d carried in. “So I might’ve walked a mile and a half to the farmer’s market instead, and…” A blush crept up his cheeks as she approached him again. “I may have stolen the tray from the bartender when he wasn’t looking.”

Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “I—How—?”

“I’ve got—uh—many hidden talents.” He gave her a nervous laugh, then he turned his attention on a white jug of milk. “They didn’t have coffee. Hope you like goat milk.”

“Goat milk?”

“Yeah, it was cheaper,” he replied, then he began pouring it into two plastic cups. “I just wanted us to have something to toast to.”

Rey laughed at him as she took one of the cups from his hands, then held it up in the air. “What are we drinking to this morning? We didn’t have to escape gunfire.”

“No,” he replied, then he took her free hand in his, and inhaled deeply. “But I have to ask you something.”

She nodded. “You can ask me anything.”

“Your accent, sounds like you’re from somewhere across the pond from me.” He stepped closer to her, then laced their fingers together—and god, would she ever get tired of him doing that?—before speaking again, “But is Britain still your home?”

“No.” She laughed as she looked up into his eyes, observing little golden flecks dancing in the brown she found there. It was almost hypnotic to watch. “I’m living in New York these days.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’m New York, too.”

A smile blossomed wide on her face as she raised her glass. “I think we know what we’re drinking to.”

“So do I,” he said, then he clinked his glass against hers. “To our first  _ real _ date.”

“To our first real date,” she repeated, then she set down her glass, waiting for him to do the same before she reached up, and threaded her fingers through his hair. “And to maybe someday learning how to make a toast before we clink glasses.”

His laughter echoed from the walls, filling their little hotel room with the wonderful sound of his delight before he leaned down, and kissed her again. She was still smiling as she melted against him, letting Ben’s arms wrap her into a warm embrace as he pulled her onto the tips of her toes to kiss her properly. 

It hadn’t even been twenty four hours, but already kissing him felt like coming home. The kiss made her feel a sort of soft and sweet inside that she hadn’t felt with—well—anyone. They’d only just met, but she could tell that Ben was the type of guy she’d be with for the long haul, especially if he lived nearby. 

With that thought in mind, she lost herself to the slowly intensifying kiss, determined to make the most out of their time in Barcelona before the Resistance demanded her return. They may have been fated to meet, but that didn’t mean reality wouldn’t sweep in to capture them in its claws the minute they touched down in New York. 

Luckily for her—for them  _ both _ —reality wasn’t powerful enough to crush what was happening between them. 

Just six weeks later they were sitting in an upscale cafe in Manhattan, and she was crushing him with a borderline bruising kiss as he slid a diamond ring onto her finger. Had they moved a bit fast? Sure, but she certainly wasn’t going to complain. Some things became certain faster than others, and after meeting him, she knew there was no one else in the world who would make her as happy as he did. 

Ben was the one for her, and she knew she was the same for him.

They were married just six months after that. The only reason they weren’t married sooner was because she wanted to have time to find people to pretend to be her family at her wedding. When they’d first met and bonded, she’d told him she had two parents and had grown up in a comfortable neighborhood with a dog she walked on weekdays and a church she attended once a week and was the darling of. In order to maintain her cover, she had to disguise the pain she consistently felt over the true story of her childhood. The story of the orphan who’d bounced from foster home to foster home hoping someone would love her enough to let her stay. 

The man she loved could never know the truth about her past, no matter how much she desperately wanted to tell him—to talk to him about it. 

When they had their first dance surrounded by their friends and family, she felt a tear escape from her left eye, streaking down her cheek as she looked up at Ben. She quickly averted her gaze to the actor she’d hired to portray her father, pretending that she was just emotional from the ceremony instead of the lie she was selling him as they swayed to Jason Mraz’s  _ I Won’t Give Up _ . 

“Are you okay?” Ben whispered, keeping his voice low so that no one watching them could tell anything was amiss. God, she loved him for that. 

“I’m fine,” she told him, then she rested her head on his chest. “I’m just really, really happy.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie. Dancing with him, swaying in his arms like they had the night they met made her more ecstatic than he could ever know. But the part of her life that he wouldn’t ever be allowed to know about? That broke her heart a little, even on the happiest day of her life. 

Still, she supposed she was doing it for the greater good, wasn’t she? Lying to make sure the streets were safe, that bad guys were put in their place? That was an honorable reason to hide, right?

“Hey,” Ben whispered, pulling her from her thoughts, and forcing her to look up as he gently stroked the curls one of her coworkers—disguised as a bridesmaid—had ironed into her hair. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Rey beamed up at him, then she laughed as their song came to an end, and a fast paced one took its place. Their wedding guests flooded the dance floor as they continued standing exactly as they were in the center of it. “I love you, too,” she told her husband, leaning forward to press another, gentle kiss to his lips. “Or I wouldn’t have married you.”

“So you didn’t marry me for my good looks?”

Snorting her laughter, she shook her head. “Well, the way you look is a bonus, I’ll admit, but no, not just your good looks, and you know that.”

“I do,” he said, then she felt his hand caress her cheek. “I just wanted to see you smile.”

Unable to help herself, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling Ben into a tight embrace. She relaxed against him as she felt his warm hands at her back through the silk of her wedding dress, then she looked up, resting her chin on his chest as she watched the light reflecting in his eyes. “Thank you.”

He smiled. “No, thank  _ you _ , Mrs. Solo,” he said, his voice so quiet it bordered on a whisper, then he smirked. “To the rest of our lives.”

“Ben, we don’t even have glasses.”

“I think we established from the beginning that neither of us knows how to do a toast properly.” 

“Fair point,” she replied, then she looked around them, observing the life flowing from everyone around them as they danced joyously to the upbeat Bruno Mars song blasting from the speakers. “I think we’re meant to be dancing.”

“I think you may be right.” He then stepped back, and offered her his hand. “Care to dance?” 

“I’d love to.” 

There were stupidly wide grins on both their faces as Rey took his hand, and allowed him to lead her further into the dance floor. He looked at her like she was the stars themselves as they spun into the rest of their lives, hand in hand, both completely unaware of the whirlwind journey they’d already embarked on.


	2. Five Years of Marriage

** _Five years later…_ **

The bed was warm that morning when he woke up with his wife in his arms, causing Ben to smile as he flexed his muscles upon waking, praying he didn’t wake her up in the process. She was still sound asleep, snoring quietly in a way that almost made him laugh, but he held himself back. At least one of them deserved to sleep in. 

She’d told him the night before that this was her day off, after all. 

Unfortunately, Ben did _not _have the day off. He rarely ever did, and this day would be no exception. A call had come in just before he and Rey had done their nightly routine of getting ready for bed together; the First Order had given him a new mission, to take out one of New York’s biggest crime lords and make it look like an accident. 

And all that before dinner at seven. 

It had been five years since they were married, but a strong part of him still hated lying to her. Sure, he was doing it for the greater good, but was it worth it to keep such a large part of himself from her? They’d been in love for the better part of a decade now, but there were still so many lies between them that it gave him a headache. 

There had been times he’d been distant from her because of it, especially recently, and it had started to put a strain on their marriage. The only time things felt normal anymore were the nights they spent cuddled up against one another, drifting closer in their sleep like they were magnets. 

So he let her sleep in, attempting to preserve that happiness that had eluded them in the daytime for ages. 

His phone chose that moment to vibrate on his nightstand, announcing an end to the peaceful morning as it shrieked at him to pick it up. Groans escaped both Ben and his wife’s lips as he rolled over, letting go of her with one arm to reach out and grab it, answering it with the grumpiest, “Hello?” ever uttered by man. 

“Solo,” the familiar voice of Leonard Snoke all but _purred. _“I need you at the office in twenty minutes.”

“Last night you said I don’t need to be there until eight.”

“Well, something’s changed, we need you here at seven sharp.”

Ben moved the phone away from him in response as he groaned, then he put it back to his ear, and nodded as if his boss could see him. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Good, and bring a suitcase, I may need you in the air today,” Snoke told him, then before he could be asked to elaborate, his boss hung up, and he was left in the silence of his bedroom. 

That quiet was soon broken by Rey shifting in the bed beside him, then he felt the warmth of her body as it pressed against his. “What’s going on?” 

Ben set down the phone and turned around to face her, looking down at her confused face. “Boss wants me to come in early. Said it’s an emergency.”

“Are you kidding?” 

“Afraid not.” He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’ve got to go.”

Another grown left her as he rolled out of bed, tugging his t-shirt down from where it had ridden up in his sleep. “It sucks, I’m sorry, but I’ll be home in time for dinner—“ _Hopefully_. “I promise.”

“And the Dameron's’ house party.”

“Well, yes, but I figured you’d be more upset if I missed dinner, so…”

“Yeah, yeah just be home in time for dinner.”

“I will.”

“You’ll be eating cold steak if you’re not,” she warned him, causing Ben to laugh as he walked away, and made his way to the closet they shared, pulling out the pieces of a business suit that made him look every bit the part of Wall Street douchebag. 

“Rey, you’ve known me for how long now?”

“Almost six years.”

“I’ve never missed a dinner in all that time, have I?” He asked as he threw his t-shirt over his head and toward the hamper at the corner of the room. 

She laughed half-heartedly in response as she watched him dress for the day, her eyes lingering on his fingers as he did up the buttons. If he looked closely, he would swear a smile had started to blossom on her face. “No, you haven’t, so don’t start now.”

“Believe me I don’t plan to,” he replied as he slid his arms through his suit jacket sleeves. “I love your cooking.”

“Who said I was cooking dinner tonight?” She got up out of bed then and walked over to grab his tie off the hook behind his head. “I seem to remember it being your turn according to our schedule.” 

“What are you doing?”

“Tying your tie,” she answered him as she wrapped it around his neck, then began to work the fabric into a knot. “You always screw it up when I don’t help you, even after all these years.”

Eyes rolling back in his head, he stared down at his wife, watching her fingers move as she crafted a knot far better than any he could ever tie. “You’re always so rude.” 

“You love me for it.”

“Mhm,” he breathed, then whatever he was going to say next was cut off when Rey tugged on his tie, and kissed him fiercely, taking him back to a warm Barcelona night when she’d done so for the first time. 

All he wanted to do was get lost in the kiss, to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, and spend the day with his wife like every other suburban, _normal_ couple. He wanted to tell her the truth about what he did, wanted her to know everything about him the way he knew everything about her. For a moment, he let himself go in the kiss, returning every bit of the passion she was giving him as she tangled her fingers in his hair, smiling against his lips. 

Eventually, though, he did have to pull away. Work was calling and Snoke had never been okay with him missing work. Historically it had led to pure and utter misery at his boss’s hand, and Ben didn’t want to risk receiving another shiner that he had to explain away as falling over on the sidewalk. It was worth it, though, wasn’t it? Doing good for his country, for the world?

“Mm, Rey, I’m gonna be late,” he said, going in for one last kiss before pulling away entirely. “But maybe we can pick this up when I get home tonight?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Only if you’re not late.”

Cupping her chin, he gave her a smirk that could only belong to a Solo. “Believe me, I won’t be late.”

“Have a good day at work then, babe,” she told him, patting his shoulder as he made his way from the room, and made his way toward the garage. 

His footsteps echoed on the concrete as he walked on by, stopping briefly by a shelf containing gardening supplies to grab a gun hidden beneath a tiny panel. Another stop was made at the window next to his car, where he grabbed hold of a series of throwing knives hidden beneath a fake container of motor oil. 

Ben Solo was a spy movie cliché, but he couldn’t have cared less. It got the job done, after all. 

A heavy sigh escaped him as he pocketed the knives in his jacket, then opened his car door, tossing the car next to his a glance as if he’d find Rey in the driver’s seat before he slid inside, and made his way downtown to the hidden office of the First Order. 

When he got there half an hour later, he could already hear Snoke yelling at him for being late. Whatever mission he was being given that day wasn’t about to be something easy, and missing dinner was going to be a high possibility. Rey or maybe his boss was going to kill him, but he wasn’t sure who would get to him first. 

Ben walked into the office building with a grim smile on his face as he nodded at the man running the front desk. That quickly turned into a frown as he pressed the up button on the elevator, and soon disappeared behind its doors. He leaned back against the elevator wall, groaning loudly as his head hit the hard, smooth plane made of some material manufactured halfway across the country. 

Preparing any sort of plea for mercy in his head wouldn’t do him any good, so he simply leaned back, and let the ride pass him by. 

When he finally made his way back to his office, Ben wasn’t scared, wasn’t nervous, he was just ready to take the reprimand and do his duty. He walked down the halls of the First Order’s offices and approached Snoke’s door with confidence. Knocking on a door had never been louder than it was that morning. 

“Come in,” his boss commanded, voice carrying through the thick wood of his door as Ben gripped the doorknob in his hand, and pushed it open. “Good to see you, young Solo.” He checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes late.”

“I’m sorry, sir, my wife was um…” He straightened the knot she’d tied on his suit. “Not happy to see me go.”

“She’s just a cover, Solo,” Snoke muttered with a chuckle, then he leaned against his desk. “You need to learn to put her needs below the needs of the First Order. There are much bigger fish to fry than keeping your wife happy.”

Ben’s fist clenched involuntarily at his side, but he said nothing in protest as he sat down in the chair waiting for him in front of the desk. “What can I do for you today, sir?”

“Perform the mission we discussed last night as planned,” he replied. “You’ll be on a flight to Charlotte within the next two hours, from there you’ll head to the Mos Eisley pub just outside downtown. Behind a door disguised as a bathroom, you’ll find the Hutt cartel playing poker in a shitty little dumpster of a room.”

“What’s my mission, then?”

“Pretend to be drunk, tell them you want to join the game, learn what you can from them, and then take them out,” Snoke told him, his voice dragging slightly on the last word. “No mercy, no prisoners, just shoot to kill.”

Ben nodded. “Anything else I should know?”

Snoke said nothing, simply rising from the table with an unreadable expression on his face. “Don’t disappoint me, Solo. You know what happens to insubordinate agents, he said, then he made his way from the room with a grimace on his face. 

Swallowing nervously, he gave his boss a nod and stood to walk out behind him, neither man saying anything as they made their way from the office, and Ben made his way to the airport. 

*

Back at home, Rey had waited patiently for the morning to pass before shooting into action herself. While Ben was working the stock market, she was going to go kill a mob boss she’d been watching undercover for weeks. All she had to do was make a quick stop at the office for a costume change, then she’d be on her way. 

_And _home in time for dinner. 

Even though Ben was supposed to be just a cover, she did love him. The connection that had sparked between them in Barcelona was real. They were going to be a proper couple someday, she was sure. She just had to work up the courage to tell him what she truly did to pay the utilities bill. 

Guilt running through her anew, Rey dressed for the day with a pair of black slacks and a white blouse, but the trenchcoat--which had the same color as the pants--would be the only part of her costume that stayed with her throughout the day. For the job she’d be performing that night, she needed to look a very specific part, and thus that led to the somewhat rare use of the extensive makeup collection she used to cover up a drawer of little pistols.

After all, what man would go rifling through a drawer where the only bullets were lipstick?

Men were stupid enough to fall for just red lipstick and mascara, weren’t they? Rey wondered to herself as she pulled out an old MAC tube, and watched herself in the mirror as she applied it. Thank god she hadn’t told Ben she was a makeup artist as her cover. He never would’ve believed her for a second. 

Once she finished her daily routine, Rey reached into the hidden compartment beneath her makeup drawer and stole one of her pistols from its confines. A tiny grin parted her lips, then she made her way back toward her closet, grabbing a holster from beneath a pile of silk scarves before strapping it to herself, putting away the gun, and tying the coat over her waist to disguise her work. 

Leaving the house was always an oddly satisfying endeavor. The secret of the double life she had was a satisfying one to hide from neighbors. It was somewhat hilarious to her when she’d wave at the old woman watering her garden in the mornings, and they both would nod to one another as Rey pulled out of her driveway, and was off on her way to—well—kill people. 

That afternoon was no different. 

By the time she pulled into the parking lot of the skyscraper her agency was based in, she was smiling. If she were being honest, aside from lying to Ben, the job was an absolute thrill. The camaraderie with her coworkers was something she tended to look forward to, and something was thrilling about all the near-death stunts that had her riding an adrenaline high for hours after she finished a job. Part of her loved it, and part of her just wished she could share it with her husband. 

God, she wanted Ben to know what she did. She hated lying to him more than anything, but she did what she did in the name of keeping people safe, and she supposed that included him. 

Telling him would just put his life in danger, and she knew that well. 

Guilt was running as an undercurrent to the blood in her veins as she walked into the building, and made her way into the elevator. The moment she was certain no one else would be joining her inside, she pressed the close doors button and tilted up a little steel panel above the other floor buttons to reveal the one designated for hers. 

The ride was slow enough that she—as usual—had time to think about everything that was plaguing her mind. Her head rested against the wall as one hand folded over the other, and she groaned as more thoughts of admitting the truth to Ben crossed her mind. 

Those thoughts were mercifully interrupted with a ding and the opening of the elevator doors onto the floor she worked on. She put a thousand-watt smile on as she stepped out into the office, looking out at the energetic scene before her as her coworkers dashed about the room. It would almost have been chaotic if she hadn’t known better, or if she hadn’t been used to it by then, but the constant moving around was just part of the job. 

It was insanity if she didn’t know where she was going, but Rey knew precisely who she was reporting to that morning and where she was going. 

First things first, she was to report to Rose Tico for a wardrobe change. Once she looked the part she had to head to Holdo’s office to be briefed on the final phase of the mission she’d been hard at work on for the past month. At long last, she would make her way out of there, and head uptown to meet with the man who was supposedly her, “client.”

On her way in she gave several nods to her coworkers, offering a few brief hellos on the way to Rose, then she was leaning over a desk waiting patiently for her only true work friend to notice she was there. After several rather amusing seconds, she cleared her throat, and the woman sitting at the desk snapped to attention. “Rey!” she cried, a hand coming up to cover her chest. “God, you scared me.”

“You were a bit invested in that monitor, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, well, you would be too if you saw the target deal I just saw,” Rose said, then she closed her tab, and stood up. “I’ve got needs.”

Rey snorted, then she followed Rose away from the desk, and toward a short hallway on the far side of the room. “What have you got for me today?”

“It’s not too different from everything else you’ve worn around this guy.” The other woman cleared her throat as they came upon a door, and she reached into her pocket for the keys. “But it might be just a bit tighter.”

At this, she blinked, wondering how anything could be tighter than what she’d worn to meet her target the other day. “But that was already a second skin, how could this be tighter?”

“There’s a corset element. After a certain point, you’re going to have to tap on the door and ask me to help tie you into it.”

“Will I be able to get out of it myself or not? Ben and I have dinner tonight.” 

“Yeah, you will, it’s the in that’s the hard part,” Rose replied, then she pushed open the door, and the two women walked into a closet that boasted a wide array of clothes. Everything from a church nun to shiny, black latex was hanging from coat hangers on the racks that lined the walls, and she was currently being led to the latter of the two. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I look good in it.”

“Maybe you ought to take it home sometime.”

“Rose!”

“Just saying, it’d spice up your home life.” 

Rey’s eyes rolled back in her head, then she stepped further into the closet. “So which one’s mine today.”

A tiny smirk appeared on her coworker’s face, then she watched as the shorter woman reached forward, and retrieved a tight, latex bodysuit with laces in the back, and an attached pair of stockings. There had been a time where she would’ve scoffed at something like that, but now she was numb to it. 

And Rose was right, she did look good in those clothes. 

Fifteen minutes later she emerged from the closet with Rose on her tail as she tied her trench coat more tightly than ever around her waist. The sound of her stiletto boots clacked loudly against the hard floors, grabbing the attention of several coworkers as she passed them. She could only pray that none of them could see through clothes. 

“I’ll take it from here, Rose, thanks,” she told her friend as they approached the door to an office bearing the name, Amilyn Holdo. 

“Good luck tonight.” Then there was a pat on her shoulder, and she heard the sound of footsteps retreating just before she knocked on the door. “See you tomorrow.”

Another kind smile was tossed her way, then the door to Amilyn’s office opened, and Rey was being ushered inside with a “Good morning.”

“Morning,” she said in response, then she closed the door behind her, and followed Amilyn up to the desk on the left side of the room. “What have you got for me today?”

“Well, we’ve gotten everything out of this guy that we can,” Amilyn replied, then she gathered a file off of her desk, and straightened up the papers inside by tapping it thrice against its surface. “There’s not much left we _can _do.”

“Then why the hell am I dressed in this clown suit?”

“Because all that’s left to do is for you to take him out. We know where he lives, where he’ll be, we just need you to get inside, and take him out.” Her boss straightened up and held the folder in her outstretched hand. “You’ll find your instructions here.”

Nodding but saying nothing, Rey took the folder and began looking through it, finding her mission for the day was going to be even more simple than she’d thought. With a job that easy, she was going to have enough time to get home, get dressed, make dinner, _and _attend the Damerons’ party. “Looks easy enough. It’ll be done by six.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” her boss replied. “Good luck on the mission.”

“I won’t let you down.” And with that, Rey was out of there, practically running to the elevator to get her job done as fast as humanly possible. She had a dinner and a party, after all, and her bet with Ben went two ways. If he couldn’t be late, neither could she. 

*

The pub that Ben had been sent to was an absolute shithole. Strong language, perhaps for a man who hadn’t exactly encountered a terrible number of pubs—he tended to exclusively drink cocktails—but the moment he walked in he was hit with a stench that wasn’t just composed of alcohol and bad breath. He almost didn’t want to know its source. Hell, he _definitely _didn’t want to know the source. 

All he cared about was finding that basement, and finishing his mission. He had a wife to get home to, after all. 

A smug look grew on his face as he approached the door in the back, remembering Snoke’s instructions to act drunk, lure the men playing poker behind it into letting him play, and finally end the mission. This was going to be a piece of cake, and he was going to be home in just a few hours. 

Ben stumbled the final few steps to the door, then checked around the pub to make sure no one was watching him. When he was certain the coast was clear, Ben reached into his pocket and grabbed a flask from its confines—_that_ had been fun to sneak past TSA—pouring a bit of the gin inside it on his shirt before loosening the perfect knot his wife had tied on him that morning. 

A slight twinge of regret passed through him, then he sighed, and stumbled into the room. As his boss had predicted, the Hutt cartel was gathered around a table, playing poker while a tv screen played the world news in the background. If any of the men had been paying attention to it before, they certainly weren’t now. Ben’s drunken tumble had distracted them all from the game at hand, and each one of them was on edge, standing tall with hands ready to reach for gun holsters at any second. 

“I… I dooon’t think this issss the bathroom,” Ben drunkenly declared, then he closed the door behind him, and walked further into the room. “My baaaad.”

“Buddy, you better get the hell out of here,” one of the men—a short, stocky guy with a mustache—warmed him. “Private game. No spectators.”

“Ohhh shit.” Ben only stumbled further and further into the room, and if he weren’t a highly trained assassin, he’d have definite cause to fear for his life, but he wasn’t afraid. Not even in the slightest. “Is that… is that blackjack…?”

“Not any blackjack you’ll be playing,” another cartel member growled, then his hand rested firmly over the holster of his gun. “Now you better get lost:”

“Come on, you could use another player,” Ben protested, stepping further into the room. “I can deal a mean hand.”

*

Rey had never been more bored than she was on the elevator ride up to her target’s apartment. Why did all the mob bosses have to live in super high up places that took more than forty seconds to reach via elevator? 

The time had never passed so slowly in her entire life, and given how late in the day she’d left for work, she wasn’t surprised the sun was already setting. She just hoped that she’d still make it home in time for her husband to not notice that she hadn’t taken a day off. 

By the time the doors opened, Rey had put her game face back on, and looked every bit the domineering seductress she was going to play that night. She was welcomed into the apartment by the man’s butler as if she were a trusted friend, and she gave him a sickeningly sweet smile as she walked past him, and made her way toward the bedroom, nodding toward the silent, burly bodyguards stationed outside. 

The doors opened before she even got there, and the short, somewhat unkempt man behind them looked down at her knowingly. “C-come inside.”

For once, she obeyed his command instead of him obeying hers, and she followed him into the bedroom, making certain to shut and lock the doors behind her before she turned around, and began to untie her trench coat. “Ordering me around, Dee-jay? That’s no way to treat a lady.”

The man in front of her smirked, then sat back against the foot of his bed, and shrugged. “What are you gonna d-do about it?”

She simply reached into her trench coat pocket and pulled out a long piece of rope. What better to render her opponent immobile than to keep him tied up? “We’ll see.”

*

The Hutt Cartel thought Ben was the greatest thing since sliced bread. After the initial awkwardness, he’d managed to get in on that poker game, offering to buy them all the liquor they could drink. They’d fallen into his trap like flies and spilled their guts as though he’d sliced them open with a knife. 

He was slowly learning everything about them. Their motives? He knew them like the back of his hand. Their numbers? He could count them—by the dozen—on his fingers. Their stock? Memorized like he was a flash drive. 

They just needed to be a little bit drunker, then he could strike and take them out. 

One of the men was passed out, another was losing it laughing, and most of the others were slurring their words unintelligibly. They were almost gone. Just one more round… “Who wants more shots?” Ben asked, and the men who were still conscious enough to answer gave half-hearted cheers that let him know to pour another round of tequila into their glasses. 

All he had to do now was wait a little bit longer. He couldn’t chance that any of them would fight back. They outnumbered him nearly a dozen to one. If any of them were capable of firing a gun, Ben was screwed, and so he waited and kept on waiting until two more men passed out, and the rest were simply too drunk to notice when he pulled out his gun and began to fire.

*

Her “client,” was as good as dead. She had him tied up and on his knees, waiting for what he thought was going to be the night of his life. Unfortunately for him, it was going to be the _last _night of his life, but with the body count he had, Rey didn’t exactly feel bad about what she was doing. 

“What’s t-taking so long?” 

“Just a minute, baby, I’ve got to finish this knot,” she replied, working diligently at the knot around his wrists. “Can’t have you escaping on me, can I?”

_Well, _that wasn’t a lie. 

The man in front of her hummed, then she watched his shoulders sag. “G-guess not.”

Rey remained silent as she finished the knot, then she stood, and slid her hands up to the back of his head, caressing his skull with both hands almost gently. “Relax and stay still for me.”

“What are you d-doing?”

At this, she leaned down, and whispered in his ear, “You’ll see.” Then she repositioned her hands, and gripped his head a little more firmly. “Or maybe not.”

With a quick jerk of her hands, she heard a familiar snapping sound, and the man she had been working on for weeks collapsed to the floor, dead. Relief flooded her as she realized the mission was finally over, that she’d be able to go home now, and her husband wouldn’t suspect a thing. 

All she had to do now was escape before his guards realized what had happened. 

Already commotion was sounding from outside. The only thing saving her from certain, immediate death was the foresight she’d had to lock the doors. Satisfaction roared within her as she heard the sound of the two men outside banging on the doors, but she couldn’t be bothered to worry about them as she grabbed her trench coat from the floor, and hurriedly tied it back into position around her waist. 

Heart beating fast in her chest, Rey ran out on the balcony to her left, pushing through the glass doors much faster than was necessary as she grabbed hold of a vital piece of rope in her pocket. One end was clipped by a climbing ring, the Middle was wound up in an old extension cord holder, and the other was attached to a handle she could grip firmly with both hands. Thinking quickly, she attached the ringed end to the iron of an outdoor light and gripped the other end in both hands before she looked out for her best possible means of escape. 

The rail surrounding the balcony went up to her waist, but if she got a running start, she’d be able to leap up onto it—or over it—easily. That was going to have to be her way out, though, since the sound of Dee-jay’s men breaking into the room filled her ears shortly thereafter. 

She was out of time, so with a deep breath and a prayer that she didn’t die, Rey ran and leaped off the balcony just as the men pursuing her burst through its doors. Tragically, there was no time for her to turn back and blow them a cheeky kiss or give a clever retort. There was only time to escape and run home faster than hell. 

Air rushed past her on the way down, making her feel as if she was flying. She was a bird on a wing, and the ground was some myth thought up by men who’d never dreamed of soaring through the sky like she was. The wind was frighteningly cool against her skin, biting through the latex material of the outfit she wore, but she didn’t care. All her conflicts, all her fears were nothing. There was just Rey and the open air. 

Nothing else existed. 

Eventually, she did reach the ground… right in front of some poor, frightened taxi cab driver who was pulled up to the curb. She gave him a warm greeting as she let go of the handle that had led her gracefully to the ground, then gave him her work address. Before she could head home for dinner, the spy had to go back for her car, or Ben would think something was up. 

“What time is it?” she asked her driver as she sat in the backseat of his cab. 

“Quarter till six, ma’am,” he replied, then she thanked him, shut her door, and waited patiently for him to get behind the wheel. 

She could still make it to dinner. She just had to hope that Ben was late coming home from work. 

*

The drive back to the airport after he was done felt agonizing. It didn’t help that he caught every red light on the way there or that by the time he got there, his flight had been delayed. Each minute that ticked by only made him more anxious, and by the time the plane finally took off, his head was slamming back dramatically against his seat in frustration. 

He was going to be late. Rey was going to kill him. He was probably going to wind up divorced, and if he did, he would tell Snoke to stick it where the sun didn’t shine. 

The flight felt like the longest ordeal he’d ever been through. It was two hours maximum, probably even shorter than that, but it felt like he was in the air for an eternity. The New York airport had never been a prettier sight than it was that evening, and it was even more beautiful when he checked the time on the arrivals screen and realized he still had an hour and a half to get home. 

Not a second after he checked the time, Ben was hauling ass to the parking lot. He was pushing past people and most certainly getting cussed out by several angry travelers—sometimes in more languages than one—in his mission to get to his car as fast as he could. 

His luck finally turned as he made his way into the lot, finding his car within seconds of running out onto the concrete as a wave of pure joy crashed over him. He felt like he was barely breathing as he fished around in his pocket for the keys, then he fumbled around to find the unlock button for a few seconds too long before he was finally allowed access to the inside of his car. 

Time seemed to resume at a normal pace when he pulled out onto the highway. His heart was still beating too fast in his chest, but according to the time—just a quarter past six—he was going to make it home in time for dinner. 

Adrenaline was coursing through his system, both from the job he’d done that day and from the narrow time gap by which he’d made it home, and when he finally pulled into his driveway half an hour later, he felt more alive than ever before. As he pulled in beside her car in the garage, he felt like he’d been completed somehow, as if he’d just accomplished some great feat. 

Maybe he had. After all, it wasn’t every day he made it home in record time like that. This was something worth celebrating, he just couldn’t wait to get inside and see the one person he wanted to celebrate _with. _

The longest day of his life was over, but the night was only just beginning.


	3. Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long. This and every other fic aside from In Living Memory is taking a bit of a backseat while I finish ILM so it's going to update probably every 2-3 weeks until ILM is finished, but here's another one for now, y'all.

The Dameron’s party was already in swing when he and Rey arrived an hour later. His body felt hot under her touch as he wondered if she could smell the sweat that was still lingering on parts of his body if she could see the tiny bloodstain that was peeping out from beneath his blazer. Nerves filled him, but he’s done this so many times before, he was a professional, and so the battle remained an internal struggle. 

She would never have to know what was happening inside of him until he found the time and place to tell her. 

“How kind do you plan on staying?” Rey asked him, yawning as she rested a hand on his arm. “I’m quite tired already.”

Concern filled Ben’s eyes; she’d only gone to work in an office, what could’ve happened to her that made her look as if she were about to pass out at a moment’s notice? His wife was giving him a charming, sweet smile, and she was leaning her head on his shoulder, but she definitely looked like she’d rather be in bed than anywhere social. If he were being honest, he was in the exact same boat, but there was no reason for Rey to be this exhausted. “Are you okay?”

“I got called into work even though it was my day off. Long day at the office. The case was rather intensive,” she explained as they made their way into Finn and Poe’s kitchen, grabbing themselves glasses of wine before they even bothered to greet their hosts. “I honestly just want to sleep.”

“Mm, me too,” Ben admitted, then he held up his glass. “We’ll stay for forty-five minutes. Be out of here before the alcohol can even think about setting in.”

“God, I knew there was a reason I married you.” She kissed him on the cheek, then they made their way through the groups of people who had congregated in the hall. 

Ben laughed in response as they approached the Damerons, who were leaning against a bookshelf in their living room as they laughed at a neighbor’s joke. Beers were in the hands of both men, and they were laughing their asses off as he and Rey approached. He waved his hand to catch their attention. “Hey!”

The two men on the far side of the room turned to face him with a smile, and as the other neighbors backed away, they pushed themselves off the wall to come and greet their friends in the middle. Poe’s smile could’ve outshone the sun as he approached Ben, and clapped a hand against his arm. “Ben, Rey, good to see you guys.”

“Good seeing you, too,” Ben replied, then he reached down for Rey’s hand, squeezing it in the hopes that it helped her to stay awake. “But I don’t think we’ll be here long, we’re both exhausted.”

Rey blinked up at him in surprise. “Ben, why didn’t you say something earlier? I thought you were fine?”

“I could use some rest myself, to be honest,” he admitted, then he turned back to Finn and Poe. “Long day at the office for both of us.”

Sympathy blossomed on the two men’s faces, then Finn took a sip of his beer and cleared his throat. “You sure you’re not coming down with something? There’s been a bug going around the neighborhood.”

His husband gave a casual nod, then he began gesticulating with his hand as he spoke, giving his frighteningly domestic speech an air of theatricality as he talked. “Yeah, uh, I think Amilyn was saying her son came home from school with something last week and then next thing you know half their house and the entire cul-de-sac is sick.”

“Apparently it’s a nightmare. They were running fevers for two days each. Headaches, nausea, you name it, they lived it.” Finn took another sip of his beer. “Hope that doesn’t happen to you guys.”

“Yeah, and if it does, you really might want to head home early,” Poe said, then he paused. “Wait, that sounds rude, what I meant was; please take care of yourselves, you know I’ll always understand if you can’t make it. Plans change. Stuff happens. It’s life. What can you do?”

“Exactly,” Ben breathed, then he looked over at Rey. “Exactly.”

“Yeah, life happens,” she replied, then she squeezed his hand. “But I’m sure we could stay a little while—“

“Ah, nonsense.” Poe waved off her concerns with a flick of his wrist. “Go home, take care of each other. Believe me, no one wants whatever the kids here are passing around.”

Both he and Rey paused, thinking through what their friends were saying for a moment as they realized they’d just been given an excuse to leave early. As he looked into her eyes, he could see through the polite mask she was putting on for the neighbors, knowing it was the same one that was reflected in his eyes. Neither of them wanted to stay, and the whole world knew it. Sighing deeply, he glanced back at Finn and Poe. “Alright then, we’ll make our way home.” He looked down at the glasses in their hands. “After we finish these.”

Twenty minutes later, he and Rey were standing outside their front door, hanging onto each other as they giggled together both from exhaustion and the light amount of alcohol they’d consumed. His wife was a wonderful source of heat against his body in the chilled evening air as he unlocked the front door, and ushered them both inside. “I can’t believe they just let us go early like that. No protests, no nothing.”

“Yeah, cause they thought we were diseased, not just tired,” she replied, causing Ben to chuckle in response as he shed his jacket, then began to guide them up the stairs to their bedroom. 

“Are you sure you’re not diseased?” Ben joked, then he reached for the knot of his tie. “Cause if you think you might be getting sick, I’ll try to call off work tomorrow.”

Rey shook her head as they walked into the bedroom, and she let her hair down from its updo. “No, I’m not sick. It really was just a long day at work.”

To be sure, he gave her another once over, checking her over to be sure she was okay. Aside from the look in her eyes that said she was going to pass out at any minute, his wife looked perfectly fine. A small smile parted his lips, then he gently placed his palms over her cheeks, and pulled her forward to place a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s get to bed.”

She hummed against his touch as she reached behind herself for the zipper of her dress. “Mmm, any other night that sentence would be perfect.”

Ben managed a small laugh in response as they pulled apart from one another to undress. “Maybe tomorrow? You, me, the bed, eight o’clock?”

“We’re barely pushing thirty and you want to go to bed at eight?” Rey teased, causing him to laugh harder as she opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a nightgown. “We must be getting older than I thought.”

Rolling his eyes, he did the same, both of them grabbing their nightclothes as they talked. “Life is short.”

“Must be shorter than I thought,” she replied as she slid a nightgown over her head, then walked over to his side of the room, leaning against a wall as he slid a t-shirt over his head. “I mean, we’re already going to bed early tonight. It’s only nine. We’ve become an old married couple and we’ve only been married for five years.” 

A blush crept up his cheeks, then he took her hand, and walked them over to their bed. “Good thing we didn’t have to wait too long then,” he said as he sat down, then he cupped her jaw, tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes. “But you are gonna look  _ awesome _ with grey hair.”

At this, she snorted her laughter, then her arms were slinging themselves around his neck as she assaulted him with kisses, both of them giggling helplessly as they collapsed into the mattress, and kissed until they started to fall asleep. 

*

Rey woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly well-rested given the day she’d had. Sure, she’d definitely had worse than the job with Dee-jay, but she’d been utterly exhausted nonetheless. 

Thankfully, her husband had been more than understanding, but just what was so exhausting about the stock market she had no idea. If she were being honest, she was a bit concerned that he’d caught whatever bug had been going around the neighborhood, but hell, maybe if he passed it to her Amilyn would let her have a day off. 

Maybe she had ulterior motives for kissing him as much as she had the night before, but if they benefited him as well, could they really be so bad? 

That morning, she had woken up with him in her arms, and she hummed as she pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, her arms flexing as they tightened around his waist. He was still sleeping, and she was due at the office in a short while, but she figured she could at least enjoy this one moment with him before she had to go. 

_ God,  _ she wanted to tell him so badly. She wanted him to know every detail of her life the way she knew every detail of his. It wasn’t fair to him that she kept lying, and she knew she couldn’t keep the secret up for much longer. She’d have to find out sometime soon if there could possibly be a way for her to tell him the truth. 

The night before had been a wonderful interruption from reality. Everything had been soft and warm and loving, and for the first time in a long time, she’d felt like she was allowed to just be normal with him. All the lies and deceit had hidden somewhere else in someone else’s life, and there was just Rey and Ben. Two normal people in a normal neighborhood with a normal house. 

Maybe that could someday be her future, but she loved what she did and she loved the good that work did and she couldn’t quit just yet. There was still so much work to do. There was so much  _ she  _ had to do. 

A groan escaped her as she rested her forehead in the tangled mess of Ben’s hair that rested against his skull, then she slowly began to pull away from him. She had a job to do, and she couldn’t worry about kissing him awake to do it.

With stealth that had taken years of training to master, Rey dressed, made herself breakfast, sent Ben a text explaining that she didn’t have time to sleep in, and got on her way to work. The drive was quiet, the only sound was that of the wind rushing by as she rolled down a window, and let the fresh air outside keep her cool as she drove into the city. 

Her thoughts took a turn for the sweet, her memory recalling what had happened between her and Ben the night before, filling the silence perfectly. Things between her and Ben had been kind of distant as of late, but the night before had given her a chance to realize how things could be and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She wanted more nights like that, where they joked about growing old and bantered like they’d been wed for fifty years. She wanted that more than anything. 

She just had to get permission to tell him. 

The walk to Amilyn’s office felt like an odd sort of death march, but at the end of it, she’d only be finding out whether or not she could be honest with her husband. As usual, she was greeted with smiles and nods, and soon enough, a very enthusiastic Rose Tico who was smiling even more broadly than usual as she came up to wish her a good morning. 

Rey returned the greeting with a slightly forced smile and a wave, then bee-lined directly to her boss’s office, hoping she didn’t appear too nervous as she knocked, then was greeted by her pink-haired boss seconds later. “Rey, good morning.”

“Ma’am do you have a moment?” she asked shyly as she entered the room, and closed the door behind her. “I wanted to ask you something.”

A look of mild surprise crossed her boss’s features, but then she nodded, and intricately crafted curls bobbed around her face as she then walked over to her desk, and sat down. “Ask away.”

Rey followed suit, sitting in front of her and resting her hands against the desk as she prepared to speak. “Agent Holdo, I wanted to ask you something I’m positive you’ll say no to, but I want to ask it anyway. I have to try.”

“Well, you can’t know what my answer is until you ask, can you?”

“Um… no ma’am, but…” She took in a deep breath, then she closed her eyes. “I want to tell my husband the truth about what I do. I just—I love him, and I can tell the constant lying is taking a toll on my marriage. We’re always honest with each other, he tells me everything and I do the same in turn—“ Amilyn’s eyebrows twitched at this, causing a flicker of confusion to dart in front of Rey’s brain as she wondered what that meant. “Except for this. It’s the one part of my life that he doesn’t know about, and it’s killing me every day I don’t tell him, so I was hoping you’d consider—“

“I can’t.” Amilyn held up a hand, silencing her before she could continue any further. “You know I can’t. I’m sorry, but if he knows something, that puts not only our entire organization but your husband’s life in jeopardy.”

“Right, I figured you’d say that, but I just—“

The look in her boss’s eyes shut her up quick. “Let’s talk about today’s mission.”

“Right, let’s um… let’s do that,” Rey replied awkwardly. “What do you need me to do?”

“Go see Rose, and drink a lot of water. Where you’ll be? You’ll need it.” She shifted Iin her seat, almost seeming to smile as she thought of something. “The desert isn’t exactly forgiving.”

A part of her almost wanted to ask what was going on, but then thought better of the decision when she realized she was unlikely to get any legitimate response. Instead, she simply bowed her head and asked a question she would actually receive answers for. “So where am I going?”

*

Fifty miles into the desert sands of Nevada, Ben was about to sweat through his button-down as he drove around on a four-wheeler, doing spins around the dunes to pass the time as he waited for his target to arrive. Because of course, they had to make an arms deal out in the middle of nowhere. Of course they did. 

Whoever Dopheld Mitaka was, he would definitely be kicking his ass later. Well, his objective was to take him out and stop the deal, but he’d make it a slightly slower death than it needed to be. He certainly wouldn’t aim for a simple head-shot. 

The meeting was taking place in a tiny, abandoned little military base that hadn’t been touched since the Cold War days, and the sight of it thoroughly chilled him as he circled his way through the dunes. He wasn’t sure what it was about the place, but it felt like something was watching him with every turn he made. 

For all he knew, someone might’ve been. The people Dopheld was supposed to meet might’ve gone in separate journeys. Maybe some had arrived early and were now watching him run about like a tourist—which was technically what he was doing. He needed something to explain his purpose there if he got caught—and just waiting to see what he’d do. 

That suspicion though was quickly ruled out when he saw three black vans drive up from behind the shimmering edge of the horizon, and he took his cue to drive his four-wheeler behind an abandoned warehouse. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Ben retrieved a pair of enhanced binoculars from the pack he’d slung over his shoulders and began to watch as the vehicles approached. 

The first vans parked in the center of the base he was in, allowing him the chance to scan their make and model, then the faces of the people inside of them—who likely because of the intense heat, refused to get out—as he waited, knowing there was something keeping them there like that. 

That sign came a few minutes later in the form of a series of white vans approaching through the same shimmer in the distance. A grin caused the corners of his mouth to twitch, and he revved his engine before taking off through the dunes once more. His target was arriving, and he needed a better vantage point to shoot from. 

If only he could shake the feeling that someone was watching him. 

*

From Rey’s vantage point in a third story window of a long gone tower, the fool driving around on a four-wheeler was about to become a major problem. If a civilian saw what she was about to do, it would spell huge trouble, and on top of that, he risked being in her shot, and if she accidentally took him out? 

She didn’t want to think about it. 

With a groan, she raised her wrist com to her mouth, and sighed before she spoke, “I think we may have a problem.”

The voice of Rose Tico soon filled her ears, “What’s up?” 

“There’s an idiot out here in a Hawaiian shirt doing whirlies in the dunes. He’s not even wearing a helmet.” 

The moron wasn’t wearing any safety gear actually. The only thing he was wearing on his head was a pair of ray bans. A thought passed through her head that the stranger running around like a lunatic in the desert looked familiar, but she shoved it aside as she watched the target get out of his van, and the most tense five minutes of her life commenced. 

He didn’t get out alone. Dopheld Mitaka walked out of the white vans with an entourage, and so did the people in the black vans across the way. It all looked like a business meeting, and there were a lot of heads, but Rey was an excellent shot. “Target’s getting into position,” she said to her com. 

“What about the guy doing whirlies?”

Rey spared him a glance, then she froze as she realized whirlie guy was definitely not doing whirlies anymore. He was now parked on the side of an old warehouse right where she could see him, and he had— _ holy shit _ —he had an enormous gun aimed right at Dopheld Mitaka’s head. “He’s not doing whirlies anymore.”

“What? What’s he doing now?”

“Rose I think there’s another spy out here,” she said, studying the whirlies guy’s movements as he loaded his weapon. “He’s got the same class of weaponry we have and I don’t think just any hitman would have that. He got that from somewhere.” 

“Damn,” Rose breathed, then Rey heard a bit of shuffling around. “Um… there’s no chance he’s one of ours, and according to file no ally of ours went out to Nevada today either.”

Rey’s breath left her in a rush. “Really?”

“Yeah, this guy’s no friendly. The tourist thing? That’s his cover. He doesn’t know you’re there,” Rose replied, then she cleared her throat. “I think you need to take the shot at him first, then take out the target.”

“If I fire at him the target will know I’m here and run away.”

“Rey, protocol says to eliminate any object in the way of your mission. We can catch Mitaka again, but if we don’t eliminate the enemy now? He might capture our target and use him to his advantage. You’ve got to take him out, he’s top priority.”

Conflicting emotions warred within her, but before they could really, properly take root, the stranger took off whirling through the desert with a loud, brazen, “ _ Whoop!” _ in the direction of the arms deal. 

Her eyes rolled, but in the same second, she knew it was now or never, and she sprang to action, aiming her gun directly at the man on the four wheel drive as he careened toward what had to be some kind of suicide mission. If she timed this shot right, she could hit two birds with one stone, but the odds decreased with every second she waited. 

Time was of the essence, and so Rey’s finger wrapped around the trigger, and she fired the gun toward the enemy’s head. 

*

Ben felt the bullet whizz past his head before he could process what it was. The sound hit him almost in tandem, but it still took him a second to realize he was being fired upon. 

Shock filling him, he screeched his four-wheeler to a halt, firing a quick shot toward his initial target as he turned around. Much to his disappointment, he missed, but he couldn’t dwell on that for too long, since the men involved in the arms deal had started running toward their cars for safety, unsure of who to trust as they hightailed it out of there as fast as they could. 

Mitaka was escaping, but Ben wasn’t walking away from this encounter without the slightest victory to show for it. 

He drove behind a small little building that couldn’t have served any other purpose than that of an outhouse, hearing more bullets as they fired in his direction and he grunted as he came to an abrupt halt before grabbing his gun, and stepping off of his vehicle to face his assailant. Just who the hell was firing at him and why was he being fired upon?

A sneak peak around the corner of the outhouse gave him a near miss from another bullet and a line of sight on an old watchtower. He couldn’t see much, but there was definitely someone—with feminine looking features, he thought he’d noticed—standing on its third story window with a powerful weapon aimed directly at his face. 

Whoever this was, they weren’t there to screw around. They meant business, and Ben was going to give as good as he got. With a low growl, he sprang to action, and poked his gun around the corner, firing back until he heard a very distant swear leave the stranger, then she was firing upon him, and they began to engage in a twisted sort of dance. 

They stayed like that for a while, firing one upon the other until finally, he grew tired of it. The target was long gone. All he had left to do was eliminate the other agent chasing after him—at least, he assumed it was an agent, and an enemy agent given that they were firing on him—and he could go home to lick his wounds and catch Mitaka another day. 

A groan escaped him as he hid behind the outhouse again with a shout, hopefully giving his opponent the impression that they’d wounded him as he reached into one of the pockets of the cargo pants he’d been given for this mission, and pulled out a hand grenade. If the enemy agent wasn’t going down from bullets, maybe that would finally shake them. 

Taking a few deep breaths, Ben bent down, then he crept along to the edge of his shelter, removed the pin on the grenade, and sent it flying into the shelter. 

*

Rey was already walking away from the guard tower by the time the explosion hit, slinging her weapon in its strap over her shoulder as she went. After the last round of gunfire between herself and the enemy agent, she figured she’d wounded him enough to warrant getting down from the tower to inspect the damage. She had to know who he was and who he worked for. She had to. 

The fireball, however, was so forceful that even though no flames licked at her skin, she stumbled to the ground, skinning her knee against it. Fierce, raw anger filled her next, and she was seething as she stood up, and began to jog her way toward the outhouse she’d been firing upon in earnest, but then she heard the sound of the four wheeler’s engines start up again, and she saw him drive away from her at a pace too fast for her to properly aim her gun.

Still, she tried anyway, aiming her scope at him without hesitation, and catching a glint of a very, very familiar smile in her line of sight as the mystery agent drove on and away from the abandoned desert base. That smile made her stop, and she would’ve lowered the gun entirely if she didn’t need it to spy on him as he drove off. It was impossible, completely, utterly impossible, but… she knew that face. Those dimples? They could only belong to one person

They could only belong to Ben. 

*

“What the hell do you mean ‘you couldn’t manage to kill her?’” Snoke howled at him, looking more livid than he’d ever seen as he paced in front of him in the office several hours later. “She’s an enemy agent! You’re supposed to shoot on sight!”

“And I did!” Ben protested, but he didn’t dare stand up to confront his boss head on. “I fired upon her the minute I realized she was firing on me.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you make the kill shot as you were driving away? If she survived the explosion, you shouldn’t have hesitated!” He was looming over him now, a nasty sneer carving his already disfigured face into something truly gruesome Ben only ever saw when he was truly livid. “You were weak, beaten by a woman who you’d--”

“I couldn’t take the kill shot because the enemy agent was my wife!” Ben shouted, standing up abruptly as he recalled the sight of the three buns on the back of the woman’s head as she ran out of the tower, the mystified look that could only belong to one person, the tanned skin he’d kissed countless times before. He’d grinned at her as he’d driven away, but the moment he was out of her line of sight his breath had been knocked from him completely. “The woman I love was the enemy agent…”

Snoke paused at this, but nothing about him softened. In fact, if he looked close enough, it looked like his features managed to harden as he braced himself against the chair behind his desk. “Your  _ wife _ was the enemy agent?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“And you refused to take her out?”

“It um, it caught me by surprise, sir.”

He straightened his posture, then those cold eyes were boring into his soul. “Don’t let it catch you by surprise again,” he growled, then he paused, and Ben hurriedly hid the grief and conflict warring on his face, but it was too late. It was always too late. “And don’t feel bad about what you’re doing either. She tried to kill you, she’s the enemy. She’s been lying to you since probably the minute you met.”

“Yeah.”

“Everything you know about her? It’s a lie. You have to believe it is a lie, because if she hid this from you what else is she hiding, hmm?” 

Ben blinked, and though he hadn’t felt it forming, a tear fell from his eye. Snoke was right. The lies had gone on from the second they’d rescued one another in Barcelona. She had probably never told him one true thing about herself, and when she said she was tired the day before… she hadn’t been tired from lawyering at all, had she? “Yeah. It’s a lie.”

The man in front of him walked around the desk, and laid a hand down on his shoulders, seeming to grip him tight but not gripping him at all. “Then you know what you have to do.”

*

Rey had a bottle of jack in her hands, taking sips from it occasionally as she stared out at the city skyline from Holdo’s office. Both Rose and her boss were trying as best they could to comfort her while also acknowledging the very difficult step that lay ahead. 

She had to take him out, she had to. Ben was her enemy, and he’d been lying to her for years. After all this time she’d spent worrying about lying to him, he’d been the one lying to her all along, and  _ god,  _ that hurt to think about. “I just can’t believe it. Ben works in the stock market.”

“Yeah, and he thinks you’re just a lawyer,” Rose muttered, walking over to the side of the room, and sitting down in one of the chairs their boss had set out. “So looks like you’re both lying.”

“He’s never-” She shook her head. “I just can’t--”

“You know what you have to do now, right?” Amilyn asked quietly. “He needs to be taken out or he may cause us conflict in the future. You can’t trust him, Rey, he’s probably using you.”

“I know.”

Rose groaned as she let her head fall back against the seat. “God, babe that sucks.”

“I know that, too,” Rey said as she set down the bottle of whiskey. “I’ll do it tonight when I get home. I just need a few minutes to clear my head.”

Amilyn rested a hand on her shoulder. “And I understand that, but you can’t hesitate. The longer you wait, the better he’ll get at evading you.”

“I know.” She braced herself against the railing lining the office windows, then looked out sternly at the city lights. “You can trust me on this. When I see him again, when the moment comes…” Her gaze flickered to Rose and Amilyn. “I won’t hesitate.”


	4. The Point of No Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY this took so long, I was finishing up my biggest WIP, but it's done now, so hopefully I'll be able to finish up this one next. Thanks for your patience, y'all.

When Ben got home half an hour later, his house had never looked more foreboding. Even with lights on to let him know Rey was home, the damn thing more closely resembled a terrifying creature than his place of residence, and something about that cut more deeply than most wounds. This was the place he made his with her, this was their first mortgage, the place he’d carried her through the threshold of and promised her they’d make all kinds of memories in. It was theirs. 

It was home. 

Ben pulled the car into the garage in silence, fighting the urge to kick, scream, cry, or curse the world as he placed his car into park, wondering if Rey was feeling the same way he was. She’d seen him in the desert, he was certain she had. She had to know he wasn’t just her husband anymore.

He had to face the music. He had to face  _ her.  _

Fighting his most intense reactions, Ben got out of the car, and walked into the main part of the house. The instant he walked in, he was greeted with the smell of her cooking. Garlic tinted the air with its specific, strong scent, and as he walked into the kitchen, he could see his wife setting the already cooked food down onto their table. 

Her back was to him, but her shoulders were tense, her entire body moving as if robotically.  _ Oh,  _ she knew, and she knew damn well, and the sound of him walking in had just reignited her tension. “How was work, Ben?” 

Almost involuntarily, Ben jumped. “Uh…”

“Everything go okay?”

“It was fine,” he said tersely, then he watched her take her seat at the table, following suit as she watched him. “How was  _ your _ day?”

“Good.” She gave him a small little nod as she piled food onto her plate. “Eventful.”

“Me too,” he replied, reaching out for the wine bottle she’d set out in front of his seat. “Eventful.”

The two of them stared at one another, looking less like a loving, normal suburban couple than ever as they engaged in a silent contest, daring one another to make a move as Ben poured the wine into the glass. It was a duel of fate, and his hand was trembling under its intensity. In fact, it was trembling so bad that he was completely, utterly unaware that he was spilling the wine instead of pouring it. It wasn’t until he felt the liquid pooling on his trousers that he finally stopped, and stood up abruptly. “Shit!”

“I’ll get a towel!” Rey practically squeaked, then she ran from the room before he could protest. 

In that moment, he had absolutely no doubt that everything in their lives had just gone horribly, horribly wrong. The feeling of the room grew hauntingly cold, making Ben hyper-aware of the fact that he was being watched. She knew. She knew, and if her agency was anything like his, she’d just been ordered to take him out. 

If she was as good an agent as he was, she would be able to put aside any love for him and do just that, even if it broke her. 

Knowing death was seconds away at any given moment, Ben reached into his pocket, and pulled out the gun he kept safe in its confines, burying the sound of him cocking it with a cough before he stood up, and held the weapon at the ready. “Rey?” he called out, swallowing nervously as he walked around the house, seeing nothing and yet sensing her everywhere he went. “Sweetheart?”

Silence, and Ben’s heart rate began to climb as he whipped around into the living room. “Rey? Babe? Did you find the towels?” 

She didn’t answer him directly, but he heard the sound of their garage door opening and her car starting, and without a second thought, he made a mad dash for their front door, running out into the driveway with his weapon. The moment the car came into view he fired a warning shot through the backseat windows, hearing her shriek in the background as she pulled out into the street. 

“Rey!” he cried, running out in front of the car with his gun still aimed high, though it was now right between her eyes. “Can we talk about this please?”

The only answer she gave him was another nonverbal one as she revved the engine, causing Ben’s heart to break as he watched the mist in her eyes give way to fury and frustration. She shook her head, white-knuckling the steering wheel as she gave him a pleading look. “Get out of the way, Ben.”

His hands came down to rest on the hood of her car a bit more forcefully than he intended, but his gaze never parted from hers. “You know I can’t do that. We saw each other in the desert, Rey. We need to talk about this.”

Her first response was to pull a gun on him, whipping it out of some holster he couldn’t see before aiming it right between his eyes. Both of them froze in that moment, terrified of what was going to happen in the aftermath of this stunning, terrible realization. Neither of them said anything, but neither of them moved either. Ben didn’t want to let her go, and she didn’t want to shoot him, he could see it in her eyes. 

“If the people you work for are anything like the people I work for, surely you also have orders to take me out,” she said after a moment, her voice muffled from the interior of the car. “Why aren’t you trying?”

The grip he had on the hood loosened, then Ben took a step back. “I… I don’t know,” he breathed, then the hand with the gun in it was back between her eyes, both of them aiming their weapons at each other now. It was a terrible dance of sorts, a challenge, a duel without the ten paces. 

“If you’re not going to kill me, then move.” Her voice was harsh, demanding in a way he’d never heard it before. 

“No.”

“Get out of the way, Ben.”

“No.”

She slammed her free hand down on the car’s horn, her face looking more frustrated by the second. “ _ Get out of the way, Ben! _ ” 

The cry was desperate, accompanied by a revving of her engine as she stared him down with every fiber of anger he imagined she held in her being. Once upon a time he’d thought those eyes were capable of staring at him with nothing but love and adoration, occasionally a tiny hint of annoyance when he turned the laundry pink, but other than that, nothing but kindness. 

Now they were deadly. Now they were two poison darts, and she was ready to strike. 

Ben moved out of the way at the last second as Rey suddenly screeched forward. He watched her eyes clamp shut as she passed him, her mouth open in a quiet scream--or maybe she was screaming, he couldn’t tell--as she drove down the street, and away from everything they’d ever known. 

All he could do was watch her go, leaving him standing there in her metaphorical dust cloud as he felt a pang in his chest unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It took him a while to figure out that the pain he was feeling was physical as well as mental, to realize that the heartbreak he felt at this betrayal was more than just a tool of imagery. 

What had just happened between them  _ hurt.  _ It felt like a knife to his gut. Sure, his wife had spared him from harm, but she’d also threatened to kill him multiple times that day and had been working for a rival agency behind his back. She’d been lying to him for years the same way he’d been lying to her. Did she even love him? Was any of it real? Or was he just a means to an end?

Tears spilled out onto his cheeks as his hands came up to grasp at the strands of his hair, and he bit his lip to hold back the scream that threatened to wrench itself from his throat. 

Why her? Was the only thought capable of running through his head. Why couldn’t it have been anyone but  _ her? _

*

An hour later Rey was lounging in the beams that made up the unique design that surrounded the windows of her office. In one hand, she was holding a bottle of red wine she’d stolen from Rose’s desk. In the other, she held her engagement ring, twirling it around in her fingers as she watched the city lights flicker dimly through its prisms. 

Tears were rolling down her face as she took another sip of the wine, wishing she’d thought to put on some music as she entered the abandoned office so she could cry properly, like she was just experiencing any other heartbreak. 

Any other heartbreak but that of her husband being a traitor to her cause. Anything but the thought of him having lied to her all along. She knew she loved him, but did he love her? She couldn’t be sure anymore, all she could think about was Ben’s seemingly grief-stricken face when he’d slammed his hands on the hood of her car. He’d seemed genuine then, but for all she knew now, he was just a really good actor. 

She hadn’t been able to kill him in spite of her warring thoughts, and she had a feeling she never would. She could dance around it, she could somehow do it on accident, but she could never look him in the eye as she shot him, as she took out her target. 

Still, she’d do it if it was necessary, if he turned out to not feel the same way, and he wound up being perfectly capable of pulling a gun on her. If he did it first, she would be capable of shooting. 

Another sip of the wine, another wish that she’d told him something when they’d first met so she could’ve spared herself from feeling what she was feeling now, from feeling completely devastated. Things had been strained between them, but she’d really thought they’d had a chance at getting better. Now she knew, the chances of that happening were slim. 

How the hell she was going to proceed from here was another question. She had no idea what she was going to do now. Taking Ben out felt like an impossible task, like asking her to cut her own heart out while it was still beating. Every time she looked at him, even knowing what he was capable of, she could still feel his lips on hers, could still see the way he’d smiled at her at their wedding. 

It felt like she’d been stabbed by a thousand knives. 

“Rey?” a voice asked suddenly, and she looked over to see Rose standing on the far end of the room, looking shocked as she held her keys in one hand, and a jacket she’d noticed abandoned over the desk chair when she’d stolen her wine in the other. “Are you okay?”

“What are you doing here?” She didn’t bother to acknowledge the question of how she was doing. Rose knew damn well she wasn’t fine. She’d seen the meeting after Rey had gotten back from the mission to Nevada. She knew. 

“I forgot my jacket and I had a tinder date.” Her friend and coworker stepped further into the room, crossing her arms over her chest as she approached the beam Rey was lying on. “Did you…?”

Rey shook her head. “No, he’s still alive.”

“Oh.”

“He had his weapon on me. I couldn’t fire without getting fired upon in return.” She worked to school her expression, putting it into something calm before she took another sip of Rose’s wine, then offered her friend the bottle. “Here, I haven’t drunk much of it. Should still be all right.”

Rose slowly took the bottle from her hands, then she stiffened, and set it down on the ground. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Did you know?”

“That your husband was a spy?”

“Yeah.”

“No, I didn’t,” Rose answered, but her face was also schooled into a neutral expression, unreadable, but giving everything away all the same. “Today was the first we’ve heard of it.”

Scoffing lightly, Rey turned her gaze back to the city outside, continuing to twirl her ring in her fingers. “I know I have to do it eventually, but… I was trying to buy myself a little more time.”

“I get it.” Her friend stepped forward again, her high heeled shoes clicking on the floor behind her as she tried to give Rey a kind smile. “It’s not easy what you have to do. You thought you loved him, even if he was just supposed to be a cover for a normal life.”

“I loved him,” Rey whispered quietly, remembering Ben’s vows, the first time he’d ever told her he loved her, the sight of him down on one knee, and the way he’d looked at her when he saw her for the first time. He’d been relieved, but perhaps he’d been relieved for different reasons than she’d initially thought. “I really did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can you go? I just really want to be alone.”

Rose nodded. “You want the wine?”

A tiny snort escaped Rey. “No, I need to clear my head,” she replied, her voice honest as she turned her gaze back on her friend. “But thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Rose replied. “I’ll catch you later?”

“See you.” 

Distantly, she could hear her friend’s retreating footsteps, but she was still emotionally numb, still completely, utterly devastated from what had happened earlier, and she couldn’t think. It wasn’t until she heard the ping of the elevator announcing that Rose was actually leaving that she was able to process reality again, and by then, another tear had made its way down her cheek. 

This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair at all. 

Unfortunately, she didn’t have any more time to dwell. The universe had decided that she’d been sad for long enough. Her interruption came in the form of an abrupt, vibrating call from her phone, her ringtone cutting brutally through the silence as she jolted to life, hurrying to pick it up. 

It didn’t occur to her until after she heard his voice that she should’ve checked the caller ID.

“Rey.” Her name sounded like a sin on his tongue, but in a different way to the summer nights in Barcelona, in a different way to the many nights after. “You picked up.”

“What do you want?” she asked, her own voice quivering slightly before she recovered herself. “Have you come to your senses? I know they’ve ordered you to kill me. Are you calling me to get my location? To take me out?”

There was silence on the line for a few seconds, making panic swell in her gut, making her fear that she’d managed to capture his exact motive. “I want to parlay with you. We need to talk. I…” Christ, he sounded  _ lost.  _ “I need to understand this. I need to know how you did it.”

“How  _ I _ did it?” she asked incredulously. “What about how  _ you _ did it? You--”

“It doesn’t matter. We need to meet, discuss this, and then… one of us is going to have to kill the other,” he told her, and then tension coiled in the air between them properly. Now he’d spoken the endgame into existence. Now he’d made it clear just where they were headed. 

“Are you proposing a duel?” she asked, barely able to contain herself as she wiped the tear making its way down her cheek off into the open air. 

“I might be.” And _ shit,  _ he didn’t sound like the man she’d married at all. He sounded darker, wounded, hurt, betrayed, beaten, and almost vicious, a tiny preview of what she imagined he was capable as a spy. She knew he was good, knew he was an excellent shot, knew he was capable of doing just about anything--aside from being rendered completely speechless by, well, her--as an agent, but there was still so much lying beneath the surface of the agent that was Ben Solo. 

Her features hardened, her entire body going rigid, but not in the manner of a timid, frightened doe. No, this time she was stiff, still in the way that a mountain lion was just before it pounced on unsuspecting prey. “Then I accept your challenge,” she growled, then with a tiny laugh, she decided to show him what  _ she  _ was capable of. “Husband.”

Ben fell quiet, and for a long moment, she wondered if the line had gone dead, if he’d hung up, or if he’d abandoned his phone entirely at her words. 

As if he didn’t want to give her the allusion that she had that much power, that she was the superior of the two spies, though, he immediately answered her, seemingly summoned by that thought. “There’s a restaurant at the base of a building in Manhattan. I don’t think I need to say more for you to know exactly which one I’m talking about.”

“I know the one,” she replied, thinking of the only building in the whole of Manhattan that held any emotional significance to her. A fancy Italian restaurant where they’d gotten tipsy on wine and he’d stuttered over his proposal to her. She’d kissed him fiercely, and dozens of people had applauded the newly engaged couple, had showered them with well wishes and wolf-whistles--of the good-hearted nature--and made her feel special. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Good.” She could hear him swallow. “Be there by a quarter till ten, no later, at the same table we sat at five years ago.”

“I’ll be there.” 

He took in a sharp breath, as if preparing to say something else, but then he cleared his throat. “I’ll see you.”

“Bye,” she all but whispered, then she hung up the phone, and pocketed it, looking out into the city in the distance. 

Parlay, he’d said. They were going to parlay as if they were two pirates instead of husband and wife, and at the end of it, they were going to walk ten paces--metaphorically or physically, she couldn’t be sure anymore--and shoot each other down. 

She wasn’t sure which one of them she wanted to fall first. In fact, she was pretty certain…

She didn’t want it to be either of them. 


	5. You Still Alive, Baby?

Rey walked into the restaurant five minutes after he did, forcing the air from his lungs the moment he caught sight of her. She was a vision in black, fabric hugging her every curve as she walked toward him with a neutral expression on her face. 

Since the last time he’d seen her, she’d changed. They’d both been complete messes, had both fallen apart the last time they’d seen each other, but now, here, they were cleaned up and proper. They didn’t show a trace of the betrayal and deceit they’d just experienced from one another. The conflict was hidden from their faces. 

Still, he’d known he wasn’t ready to see her. He wasn’t prepared. His emotions were still a complete turmoil as she approached, and he stood up to pull her chair out as if they were any other couple. Only unlike the last time they’d been here, she didn’t greet him with a smile. Instead, she gave him a clipped, “thanks,” and took her seat. 

He quickly followed suit, sitting down tensely across from her as a waiter approached to pour their wine. Neither of them spoke, both were waiting for the waiter to leave, for the moment they would actually be alone. 

It came a few seconds later when the waiter finished pouring wine the color of dark red blood into their glasses and finally walked away after what felt like an eternity. He swallowed nervously, unsure of what to say to her after the last encounter that they’d had, after the last time they’d spoken on the phone. “Nice dress.”

She hummed quietly. “Thanks, I stole it from work.”

He scoffed. “Work, huh?”

“Let’s not skirt around it. We’ve been lying to each other for years.” She was much more blunt than he was, more straight and to the point. “And I have orders to take you out as I am sure you have orders to take  _ me  _ out.”

He did. Snoke had ordered him to take her out cruelly and viciously, and Ben was certain that since she wasn’t dead already, he was going to get punished for it, but… as he looked up, he found the hazel of her irises. Those were still the eyes of the woman he loved. They always would be. “I do,” he replied, barely able to keep his voice from wavering. “You’re a criminal.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“Were you always working for them or did that start after we—?”

“I was working for them before Barcelona, yes,” she confirmed, then she took a sip of her wine. “You were just an easy cover at first.”

_ That  _ stung. It hurt him—and probably her too if he was being fair—more than he could imagine, but she’d been the same thing to him at first. The connection, the magic, and the romance had all happened later. “So were you.”

“And now here we are five years later,” she said, setting down her glass, and giving him a cold, calculating look. “I’d thought things had grown distant lately, but I had no clue we’d been five hundred miles apart to begin with.”

A small flash of anger and hurt rushed through him, and he glared at her, wondering how she could have the audacity to say something like that to him when  _ he’d  _ been suffering the same thing. “I wanted to tell you every day. Every single day that we were together I thought about telling you. At least…” He gestured vaguely. “Now I know how it would’ve gone.”

“I was just asking my boss this morning if I could have permission to tell you. But now… now we’ve exchanged bullets.”

“You’re not half bad a shot.”

“I can’t say the same about you, you didn’t manage to take me out earlier with what should’ve been a guaranteed kill shot.” 

She made a sound that almost resembled laughter. “How long are we going to sit here exchanging barbs? One of us has to kill the other, or we risk getting hell or being taken out by our jobs.”

Ben spared a glance at his wine, thinking it over as his eyes then washed over the entire room. The restaurant glowed with romantic, low lighting from candles and chandeliers. Last time they’d been there, it had felt like a beautiful, surreal dream. They’d danced to a band, he’d gotten down on one knee, and they’d agreed to be married. 

In the present, the band was still playing. Their table was just at the edge of the dance floor, where a few couples were swaying casually, looking so at peace, so serene, it calmed him for a moment. The band in the background looked focused, like they were lost in the world created by their music.  _ God,  _ he wished he could be them, could be lost in the music like they were. He wished this wasn’t happening, that  _ anything  _ but this was happening. 

An idea sprang to his mind, and he gave his wife an intrigued look. “Dance with me.”

“What?” A bewildered expression crossed her face, and she blinked it away as he held out a hand to her, repeating the request as he stood up. Apprehension filled her stare, but she reached out, and took his hand, allowing him to pull her into a lover’s embrace as they stepped out into the dance floor and began to sway. 

“Should we duel? Try to make it fair?” Ben asked, his voice low as he whispered in her ear. “Ten paces, and turn on the last?”

“You actually want to do it? To obey your agency? To kill me?” she growled, but her voice sounded hurt. About as hurt as he felt. 

“We are at an impasse,” he whispered, holding her a little closer in what could’ve been intimacy and could’ve been an attempt to keep her from striking first. He wasn’t sure just yet. “One of us has to—“

“Let’s not talk in circles.” Rey spun around, landing smoothly back in his arms. “You work for the opposing team and this is a war of sorts. We should be trying to kill each other. I suspect the only reason we’re not dead yet is that we’re in public.”

“An excellent point.” He twirled her around again, dipping her low as she came back in. “Then perhaps we need to take this away from prying eyes.”

As he raised her back up, she gave him a nod. “Can we take a moment? I need to use the ladies' room,” she said, then she held up a finger. “And to clear my head.”

Logic escaped him in that moment. If he’d had his right mind, he would’ve asked her to stay, assumed she was lying after the betrayal from earlier, but he didn’t. He was still reeling, still lost, and so he gave her a tiny nod, and slowly dropped his arms, watching her as she stood in front of him for a few more seconds, hypnotized by the look in her eyes. 

She placed a hand on his arm for half a second as she walked past him, causing his breath to catch in his throat as he watched her go, leaving him alone in the middle of the dance floor. 

Ben turned to watch her leave, his eyes never leaving her as she ascended a staircase and left his line of sight. Only then did the context of their conversation rest heavy on his soul again, and he remembered all of his training. That quick and hasty exit wasn’t just an excuse to go to the bathroom, it was something else. 

Sprinting into action, he ran off of the floor and toward the slowly winding staircase she’d just ascended, taking the steps two at a time until he reached the top, then he searched for the signs leading to the restrooms. 

It was a sign he found a second too late. The moment he laid eyes on the symbol declaring the door to the women’s restroom, the door exploded in a brilliant flash of light and smoke. The force of it had him falling back onto the stairs, his spine hitting it in a way he was certain would leave bruises later as he cried out, and suddenly the world was a blur of screams and people’s terror. 

He was on his feet seconds later, running out the back exit of the restaurant while the panicked people within it rushed the front. There wasn’t time to waste blending in, he had to be out of there immediately, and he had to get on the road to find Rey. Given their last conversation, he thought he had a good feeling of just where the hell she’d gone. It was only a matter of getting there first.

When he’d gotten there, he’d parked his car in an alley on the side of the restaurant, and he now regretted that decision. The alley was just a touch too far from where he currently was, and he could only hope that Rey parked even further away. His survival instinct was screaming at him to  _ go go go go  _ and  _ run run run run _ and everything was moving at a thousand miles an hour as he ran out into the alley, and scrambled to get in his car. 

She wasn’t getting away so easily. She wasn’t going to end him first. He couldn’t let her. 

He couldn’t kill her. 

*

Rey pulled up to the house first. She had so much time to spare that she was even able to back into their shared garage, and with a neutral expression on her face, she got out and walked inside, depositing her purse and wallet on the kitchen counter like everything was normal. 

For a moment, it almost felt like any other day when she was coming home from work, like this wasn’t anything unusual. She wasn’t about to amass every piece of weaponry to set a trap and try to kill her husband. That wasn’t happening, that was someone else’s nightmare, not hers. It could never be hers. 

But it was, wasn’t it? This was her nightmare. Ben was an enemy spy, and she’d fallen right into his trap, she’d fallen right into his every lie. 

_ He’s fallen into yours, too _ , a voice in her head reminded her, but she shoved it away to the back of her mind. Thinking like that right now would help no one, least of all her. 

Rey gathered arms as quickly as she could, strapping a rifle over her shoulder before holstering a tiny pistol beneath the fabric of her dress. She ran up into the bathroom they shared, trying not to let her heart break as she looked over at his things as she dug through her makeup drawers for the arm strap that contained throwing knives. It wasn’t the most convenient method of murder, but surely it would buy her time if the worst-case scenario happened. 

Outside, she could hear a car approaching, tires squealing as it came to an abrupt stop, and that could only mean one thing. Ben was home, her husband had arrived, and she was out of time. 

Taking in a deep breath, Rey positioned herself at the top of the stairs, pointing her rifle between two poles so she could see the front door. She’d left it locked, but if he was half the spy she was, then he’d be able to break it. Watching closely, she cocked her weapon, preparing to fire as she heard his footsteps approach. Whether she was able to follow through and take the shot would be another story entirely, but she was trying, and that had to be enough. 

He tried the door first like she knew he would, and rattled the knob frustratedly when he realized it wouldn’t open. Her husband then swore loudly, and she watched his face turn to a grimace through the windows on either side of the front door as he reached into his pocket—undoubtedly for some kind of weapon. 

Eventually, he found it, and seconds later she saw him strike the butt of a gun against their front doorknob enough to knock it from the wood entirely. Rey winced from the sheer force of it, then watched as Ben stormed into the house with the gun held out at eye level, ready to shoot. Unfortunately for him, so was she. 

The first shot was fired by Mrs. Solo, and it flew just past Mr. Solo’s head as he walked into the front room. He ducked upon hearing the gunshot, and his assailant immediately hid behind a nearby wall. 

A moment later, she heard him chuckle, his voice low as he spoke. “Honey, I’m home,” he teased, and it almost sounded like a song, but everything about it was wrong. They never used pet names around each other, hardly ever. 

Rey’s features twisted into a snarl as she turned around the corner, and fired a shot at where Ben had been standing, but he was no longer there. Frowning, she changed her position, climbing carefully down the stairs as she began to search for her husband, keeping her eye on every tiny, seemingly insignificant detail of her house. Anything that could give away the fact that he’d been there seconds ago would help her. 

“You know, for an agent, you’re a lousy shot,” he told her from somewhere, and the moment she finished climbing down the stairs, she changed direction. She would swear he’d been right behind her just then. She’d swear it on her life. 

“Please, sweetheart, that was a warning,” she replied, then she caught his reflection—he had the gun in his hands, still held high at eye level—in a mirror on the far side of the room—well, a window in the dining room—and she fired again, the bullet breaking the glass right between his eyes. “You better run.”

“No.” His voice was right behind her, and suddenly one of his hands was gripping her wrist. She gasped, but his touch was so gentle she almost thought she’d imagined he was there. “I think that’s your problem.” 

A smug grin rose to her face, one she hoped he could see in the mirror. “Are you sure about that?” she asked, then she freed her hand from his grip and sent her elbow flying backward into his diaphragm. 

Ben gasped for air as she sprang away, flying down the next hallway as she ran into the living room, hiding behind their sofa as he stumbled after her. “Rey!” he called out, sounding almost desperate, like he was genuinely eager to find her. 

Almost as if he still cared. 

She growled viciously as she jumped up over the couch, tackling him and it to the floor as the rifle she’d had strapped over her shoulder fell away somewhere, and they fell to the floor into battle. His palm collided with her face, her fist immediately slamming into his jaw after. Both of them spat blood into the floor, and Rey almost felt guilty about the wound she’d opened up on his forehead when she’d knocked him to the floor, but then she was back in fight mode. 

At some point they regained their ability to stand, but not for terribly long. Ben sent Rey flying backward into a shelf on the far side of the room with a particularly powerful kick to the gut, and she hit the wood with a grunt, the shelf breaking from the sheer force. By the time she recovered, he’d left the room, and she was hot on his heels, grabbing her rifle from the floor as she began to chase him through the house, and they started exchanging gunfire. 

Bullets tore apart the walls of their home as they engaged in a deadly chase, and a part of her was concerned about all the repair bills they’d undoubtedly have, but another was just focused on surviving this. Before Ben, she’d been independent, on her own, and had never needed anyone. She could survive losing him, couldn’t she? It was for the greater good, wasn’t it?

At that moment in which she became distracted, Rey lost  _ sound _ of him. She paused all movements, tuning her ears for a sign that he was still there, but she couldn’t hear anything. A creaking sound came from nearby, and she turned her weapon to the staircase, but found nothing. 

Curiosity filling her, she began to ascend the stairs. Perhaps her husband had gone up to their bedroom, but tonight they wouldn’t be playing any sort of fun games up there, that much was certain. Almost smirking at the memory, Rey turned her weapon downstairs at the sound of another creak, then she shrieked as a kitchen knife went flying past her arm, scraping it as it sliced past, and embedded itself in the wall. 

Her eyes fell on the entrance to the dining room, where she could see a tiny sliver of Ben’s jacket as he made his escape. Shrieking a warrior’s cry, Rey began to fire her rifle ruthlessly into the wall, firing with abandon until it was so riddled with bullet holes, nothing behind it could possibly be alive. Praying that he was, she lowered the weapon, and let her smirk grow. “You still alive, baby?” she asked, but she heard nothing in response. 

Her brows furrowed as she took a few cautious steps down the stairs, then raised her weapon again. “Ben?” But there was no response. He remained silent. Fear began to ramp up her heart rate, forcing more adrenaline through her veins as she started to actually fear what she’d find on the other side of that wall. 

“Ben?” she asked again as she passed the bullet hole riddled wall, looking through it to try and see if she’d left a body. Finding nothing, she then rounded the corner, and suddenly his pistol was in her face. “Ben.”

The smirk was on his face now, but it soon faded into something else. His eyes were full of something inexplicable, his posture stiff, and his mouth set into a fine line. He was unreadable, and she didn’t know what agent Ben was thinking. She knew her husband, knew his little quirks and ticks that gave away his emotions. The man in front of her made no sense, she didn’t understand him the way she knew the one she married. 

They’d woken up that morning in bed together and now they had guns pointed at each other’s faces. 

“Rey,” he answered her at last, and she finally saw the mist in his eyes. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Then why the hell have you been chasing me around the house firing a gun at me?” she cried, more frustrated with their situation than with him. She knew she’d caused this just as much as he had. “Why are you agreeing to this?”

“Why are you?” He was equally as loud as she was, and just as distressed. “You fired the first shot, Rey, I thought that was a declaration of war!”

“Because I thought you planned to duel me the second we got home! Once we were alone, I knew you’d try to come after me so I planned a move of self-defense!” She loosened her grip on her weapon ever so slightly but didn’t move her aim. “Because you’re the enemy now. You work for—you work for them. We can’t be together as long as you—“

“And you work for  _ them _ .” They were both panting in the aftermath of the reminder, but then his face fell, then he scoffed as his features softened. 

Her nose twitched as she tried to fight back tears, blinking rapidly to prevent herself from crying. “What?”

“You said we can’t be together,” he said, then he gestured vaguely between them with his free hand. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want to.”

“What I want doesn’t matter, I’ll die, we both will if we ignore orders and don’t try to take each other out.” She stepped forward, the tail end of her rifle pressing into his shoulder as his pistol brushed the center of her chest. “We have no choice.”

He closed his eyes, and shook his head as his eyes locked onto hers, and she watched his face become one she knew again. “Rey, we do.” The weapon in his hand fell to the floor, and slowly, ever so slowly, he reached up to grab hers. “So please, please fight this with me.” 

The conflict on his face was so genuine, so real, that she almost felt swept away by it. He was the man she married once more, he was the one she’d danced with in Barcelona, the one who’d proposed to her in a fancy Italian restaurant, and the one who promised her she’d always have him during their first dance at their wedding. This was Ben Solo, and she loved him with every fiber of her being, and so she made a decision. It would possibly be the worst decision she ever made in her life, but she made it regardless. 

Rey dropped her rifle to the floor, then before Ben could say anything, she reached forward, and grabbed his bloodstained shirt, pulling him forward into a searing kiss. 

At first, he seemed shocked, but then her husband’s arms wrapped around her, causing her to wince slightly when his bicep brushed over the cut on her arm, but she didn’t care. She was in his embrace, and she was warm, safe, and free from all the problems currently plaguing her. An involuntary smile escaped her into the kiss as she grasped the fabric of his shirt in her hand, her other hand weaving its way into his hair as he kissed her fiercely enough to make her head spin. 

It reminded her of the first time they’d kissed; how she’d known then and there that he was the one for her, that he was her soulmate. Regret filled her as she wondered how any situation could’ve ever made her forget that for a moment—how anything could’ve ever made her shoot at him even if it wasn’t to kill. She was sorry and she could tell he was, too. They both hated what they’d done to each other—what they’d done from the very beginning. 

All the deceit ended there, that night, in their living room. They were never going to tell another lie to one another again, and they were going to fix this. They were going to repair everything. 

“Wait,” Ben whispered, pulling back suddenly to look at her one more time. “You’re sure about this?”

“I’m sure about  _ you, _ ” she told him, then she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Till death do us part, remember?”

This time, Ben initiated the kiss, taking her face in his hands as he backed her up against the wall, and she let his lips find hers, a small groan escaping her as her hands began to reach for the knot of his tie, undoing it in an almost frenzied, desperate manner as he held her close. His hands found her hair, her cheeks, her jaw, and began to drift gently over her skin before he settled on helping her free him from his tie. 

Once that was gone, she began to kiss him in earnest, but he was the one who deepened it, wrapping an arm around her waist to lift her up into his arms as he pressed her against the wall. A slight grunt escaped her from the contact, but they both ignored it as they smiled against each other, then he pulled away, asking her a silent question with his eyes. 

Rey cocked her head to the side, and shook her head even as her grin refused to fall. “We’re on the same page, Ben, just don’t stop kissing me,” she breathed, then he laughed before he resumed kissing her, making her head spin like she was on a twister ride at an amusement park, and slowly, carefully, they sank down the bullet-riddled wall to the floor. 


	6. Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we reach the end!

Somewhere between minutes and hours later, between immediately and never, Rey was curled up by his side, his button-up swallowing her small frame as she rested her head in the crook of his arm, her cheek warm against his chest. A blanket covered both of their lower halves as they laid there side by side in their destroyed living room. Broken glass was strewn about not six inches from his head, and bullet holes threatened to collapse the nearest wall if they didn’t tread very carefully when they eventually chose to move about. 

And yet Ben couldn’t be bothered to be panicked about any of it. Destroying their house, the lies, the deceit, all of it had been worth it. In the end, they could work this out, he knew they could. If what had just transpired on that floor was anything to go by, they could do this. 

All marriages were put through tests, weren’t they? Theirs was no different. 

Ben looked down at his wife, watching her chest rise and fall as she breathed softly, not quite asleep but not fully awake either. Those familiar feelings he got every time he looked at her filled his mind again, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to the crown of her head, praying that the worst was over, and they’d be able to move past this without either of them getting hurt in the process. 

At the end of the day, no matter what happened, he still loved her, and he always would. 

Rey shifted in his arms, and he held her a little more tightly, as if he was afraid that if he let go, he’d lose her completely. Was she awake now? Was she aware of what was happening again? Had the memories come flooding in yet? 

“Please start breathing again so I know you’re not dead,” she muttered, causing him to laugh as his lungs’ most basic instincts kicked in. 

“Hello to you, too,” he replied, earning a tiny giggle from his wife as she looked up at him, and tilted her head to press a kiss to his jaw. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Not quite. Had a lot to think about.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Cause I want to work on fixing this. I want to go back to being happily married to you as soon as possible.” She rested a hand on his cheek, and he could feel her wedding band press against his skin.

Looking down at his own band, he nodded. “I couldn’t agree more, but I’m afraid we’re going to have more immediately pressing matters to contend with very soon.” Before she could protest, he held a finger to her lips. “We’ve both just betrayed two very secretive agencies who ordered us to take each other out. We both know they’re going to want retaliation for that, right?”

Her face fell, but then remained firm. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. So what do we do? Go underground? HIde for the rest of our lives? We can’t possibly fight them all and win.”

“No, we can’t, it’ll be a blood bath if we do,” he said, then he let his head rest back against the floor as he tried to think of a solution. “We may just want to go underground for a while. Hide out, maybe go back to Barcelona for a vacation…”

A grin parted her lips, then she leaned up to kiss his, trapping his lower lip between hers as she tightened the grip she had around his waist. Another fresh wave of contentment washed over him, and he thought maybe, just maybe, he could be persuaded to lie like this forever with her. He’d enjoy such a thing, he’d probably even liken it to his version of heaven. 

Rey’s lips tasted vaguely like the wine they’d drunk at their disastrous dinner the night before, making him think of how they’d danced, the barbs they’d exchanged, and the many miles they still had to walk before their relationship was perfect again. That stung a little, but her kiss soothed the burn, made him feel relaxed and safe, like this wasn’t going to be the hardest thing he ever went through, that he was  _ home _ in her arms. 

Hell, anything with her was--

“Barcelona sounds lovely,” she said, breaking the kiss as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, eyes staring over him in a way that looked almost hungry. “But maybe we should eat breakfast first.”

Ben’s eyes lit up, then he joined her, the two of them bringing each other to their feet before they walked into their kitchen with their fingers laced together, and smiles donned on both their faces. 

Breakfast had never been more delicious. After he shrugged on a t-shirt whose hem rested comfortably at his hips, Ben felt like he’d somehow disappointed Rey once he walked into the room wearing it, but she quickly got over whatever it was about the shirt that was bothering her as the two of them made the world’s messiest pancakes while stepping over every conceivable piece of debris they could find. 

The house was a freaking nightmare, and he did not envy the poor bastard that would have to investigate it when the two of them disappeared. Hell, he envied the one who would try and put it back together again even less. The amount of bullet holes alone… this house wouldn’t sell on any market to anyone with a degree of sanity. 

Whoever tried to sell their house in its current condition would probably get laughed out the door. He really, really didn’t envy that person, and he really, really couldn’t wait to get back to Barcelona with Rey. They just had to figure out who they’d be taking out first, and between the two of them, if she was a half-decent agent, he was confident they’d be able to pull  _ something  _ off. 

They just needed to time it right. If he knew Snoke, and he did, then his boss already suspected something was amiss by the fact that it was now the next morning and his wife wasn’t dead yet. Worse, he suspected Snoke already knew about his agreement to work things out with Rey somehow. He’d always scanned his home for bugs, he’d always been so careful about that, but the snake of a man had a way with technology that brought fear into his heart. Crossing him would be no easy task. 

Killing him, if it came down to that, would be even harder, and he dreaded the amount of planning or care they’d have to put into it. They’d certainly have to burn the--

“Ben?” Rey asked, interrupting his thoughts. “Do we have any orange juice?”

He turned around to see her holding a container of the aforementioned juice with a stupidly wide grin on her face. There were two bullet holes in the carton, and several more piercing their refrigerator. “Jesus…”

“I think we’re due for a grocery run,” she told him, then she set down the container, and some of the remaining juice sloshed out through the bullet holes as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m really craving some ice cream.”

Laughter fell from his lips as he leaned forward, and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I love you, you know that right?” he asked her, one of his hands pulling at the small of her back until she was pressed up against him. “I don’t know how I ever could’ve considered--”

“Shhh…” She leaned up on the balls of her feet, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We don’t have to talk about that right now.”

Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her as he looked down at the bullet-riddled orange juice, watching the sunlight from outside reflect off of the tarnished orange in the logo. For a few seconds, it was hypnotizing, but then he noticed something odd; the white light on the logo joined by a familiar-looking red dot that he knew all too well. 

Still, it took him a few seconds to process what this was, and by the time he realized it, it was almost too late. “Get down!” he shouted, then he used the grip he had on Rey to pull them both to the floor as the glass of their window burst, and the sound of an automatic weapon going off became deafening. 

“Shit!” she cried as they impacted the hardwood, but they couldn’t lie there like that, they had to get moving, they had to run, and they had to run fast. 

Together, they crawled up from the floor, moving at the speed of light to try and evade the bullets that were whizzing past them. They ran past their destroyed living room, and he winced as one grazed his shoulder when they attempted to throw open their basement door. 

“I’m assuming you’ve got a weapons stash down here?” he asked her, making his way toward a cabinet on the far side of the room he’d always kept locked. “Cause I do.”

“You bet I do. Down here, and in the kitchen, underneath the oven.”

“The garage, and the kitchen, beneath the silverware drawer.”

“Half of my lipsticks are actually bullets, but you wouldn’t have thought to look there.”

“No, definitely not, you’re right.” Hurriedly opening his weapons cabinet, Ben tossed her the first pistol he could find. “We’re gonna have to fight our way out.”

Rey scoffed before laughing at him. “You think?” she asked, loading the pistol as he grabbed one of his own. “Who do you think this is? Your guys or mine?”

“Does it matter? They’re trying to kill us.”

“Fair point. I’ll back you if you back me?”

“Deal,” he replied, then they sprang into action. Moving almost as one, they ran out of the door at the back of the basement, running out to where Ben suspected their undoubtedly masked colleagues would be waiting to take them out. 

They had to firefight their way to the garage, glaring down anyone who dared to try and get in their way as they shot their way to their van. The world passed in a blur, and the whole time all he could think about was Rey at his rear as they shot their way through the house, was that it was a marvel the damn thing hadn’t collapsed from the number of bullet holes. It continued to amaze him as they shot down the last of their attackers, then rushed like bats out of hell, running up until she was in the driver’s side of her car, and he was preparing to defend them from the back of it. 

They didn’t bother with the garage door opener either. His wife simply put the car in reverse, hit the accelerator, and they burst forth from the destroyed home they’d never be able to return to again, and made their way out onto the highway praying no one else was on their tail.

*

An hour later, they were still pulling debris from each other’s hair whilst sitting side by side on a motel room bed. It was the most far from normal thing they could’ve possibly been doing, but for some reason, it felt right. They were meant to do this together, to fight side by side. She was never meant to keep it from him, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was meant to fight with him. 

They were a team in every sense of the word. 

“What the hell do you think they want from us?” Ben asked, and Rey sat back on the bed, trying to wrack her brain for any possible reason why they could both be wanted like this. 

When their home had been raided, there had been no way of knowing whose side the armed fighters were on, but she had a bad feeling that it was both. She had a bad feeling their organizations had started working together to take them out. Combined, as a married couple, they were a threat. They threatened the security of their respective teams, and from a business perspective, they needed to be eliminated. 

From a reality perspective, though? 

Rey watched her husband as he buttoned up a shirt they’d stolen from a thrift store on their way to the motel. Once he finished, he reached into the bag they’d had in the car, the one they’d thrown all their stuff in, and tossed her a dress with a hemline that bordered on scandalous. She laughed, shaking her head as she looked at him, realizing there was no way in hell she’d ever be able to kill him or watch him be killed. They were running out of options. They were running out of choices. 

But they were two of the world’s most powerful spies. If they wanted to disappear, if they wanted to run away and never be seen again as Mr. and Mrs. Solo, they could do that. 

“I think they want us dead,” she admitted, then she stood up, shucking off his shirt in favor of putting on the dress he’d handed her as she spoke. “I think we need time before we come at them, because we can’t take on two of the most powerful agencies in the country alone.”

Disappointment crossed his face, but surprise didn’t follow. “You’re right.” He ran a hand through his hair. “What do you think we should do now?”

“What do I think?”

“You have an idea, I can see it in your eyes,” he said, then as she adjusted the hemline of her dress, he walked up to her, and took his wife’s face in his hands. “What is it?”

“We have a chance…” She grasped his wrists with her hands, running her thumbs over the back of his hands as she looked into his eyes. “To start over. No more lies, no more going out and risking our lives every night--we can just disappear. We can become new people.”

He blinked in surprise. “New people?”

Nodding slowly, she wrapped her arms around his waist, and gave him a shy smile. “We can leave here, and become new people. We can leave Rey and Ben Solo behind. They were killed tragically in a gas explosion in their house. It’ll break Finn and Poe’s hearts but we’ll be able to stay together. We won’t have to fight a war we know we’ll lose.”

A million thoughts, theories, and opinions flashed in front of his eyes as she watched him slowly think it over, and come to the conclusion that his wife was right, that they did need to run. They needed to run as far away as they possibly could and never look back. “Yeah, yeah we do.”

“So you want to do it? You want to run away?”

“I’d go to the ends of the earth with you, Rey,” he promised her, then he brushed a piece of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear before he sighed. “So who do you want to be next?”

“Anyone. Where do you want to go?”

“I’ve always been curious about Canada,” he replied, then he leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I hear it’s nice this time of year.”

Rey giggled softly, then she began rubbing soothing circles into her husband’s back, feeling her entire body warm as she looked at him. “Then we’re going to Canada, Mr. Solo.”

“How’s Toronto?”

“I think I’d prefer Vancouver,” she said, then she leaned in a little closer. “So now that we’re on the same page, would you please stop talking and kiss me?”

Never one to disappoint his wife, Ben gave her a small laugh, then he was kissing her, his hands drifting up into her hair, and his lips caressing hers as she pulled him close, returning it with everything she had. In spite of the difficulties of the last twenty-four hours, they had never felt more unified. Rey felt like her marriage, her relationship was stronger than ever. She felt like they were invincible. 

Sure, now they had two agencies that were at each other’s throats on their asses, but she felt like they could handle anything the world threw at them. And as her husband began walking them backward, as they drifted slowly back to that motel bed, exchanging lazy, slow, gentle kisses, she knew they had found a new beginning. They’d gotten their second chance, they’d gotten everything they’d ever wanted, and the only thing they had to worry about now?

The only thing they had to worry about was changing their names from Solo to whatever came next. 


End file.
